Once Upon an Enchanted Rose
by ladyofthelake1986
Summary: In real stories there is no such thing as Happy Endings because nothing ends. It only begins again. This is a new beginning for our Beast. Seventeen years after the story ends he must live his life with three children a queen and a new spell to break.
1. Loneliness

_**Disclaimer:** To start off with I own nothing. It would be stupid for me to say I did, everyone would know I was lying and if anyone was stupid enough to think I could actually make money off this, they are also a bit out of touch with the modern world. But it means something to me. I do own a few of the characters but they make very little difference and I'm not making any money off them either._

_**Authors Note: **I would like to make a few notes before the story begins. I have had this little tale running through my head for almost a year now. I would like to get it properly on paper, so that it doesn't have to be in my head anymore. This beginning may be a little confusing for some people. The first three chapters of the story are basically to bring people up to speed with what is going on. It starts seventeen years after the spell is broken and you will see all the favorite characters (except Gaston, whom is still dead... Ce La Ve). I have named the prince Christian. Not really from anything and I'm completely aware that it is an English name but whenever I was little for as far as I can remember he has been named Christian and I don't think I could write any Beauty and the Beast story without him being my Christian. So if he's not exactly how you pictured him... oh well. The rest of the characters were given names as well. I've never liked calling them by their last names: Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts. They had to have first names and so I gave them some. It's just to make the story more personal so don't get angry. If you are completely bored by this first chapter, I will post another boring chapter, and then another. Please keep reading, it's going to get really good. If you still hate it, tell all your friend to read it and you can form a club. But if you like it, tell all your friends and then you can write lots of fun reviews together. So either way, I would like to bring people together on mutual agreement. Okay? Good. And now with no more babbling..._

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Chapter One: Loneliness**

It was morning. He noted it with an exasperated grunt and attempted to pull the covers on his bedsheets over his face. He found this difficult as he had completely twisted them over his body and entangled his long legs in the bottom sheet. Again he grunted, knowing  
he should get up and face the day. It was going to be a long one he was certain he would not enjoy it. "What was it that I'm trying not to remember again?" he thought to himself as all the vague sleepiness of the night was slipping away from him making it more and  
more impossible for him to rest any longer. "Oh, yes." he whispered aloud as he slowly allowed his eyes to flutter open. "I'm turning thirty-eight tomorrow..."

He thought of this with contempt, but it only lasted for a moment because he found that the longer he tried to stay angry at time for going past so quickly, the more he knew it would fly by quicker. He scanned his room as the daylight tendrils began to fill it with the brightness of a new day. His evening suit from the previous day had been taken from it's unceremonious place on the floor and laying nicely in a chair next to his bed but a finely tailored tunic with matching breeches to replace the clothes he had discarded the night before. He noted the leather boots that lay on the floor next to it and could tell they had never been worn because they were missing his normal holes and scratches. A cotton shirt was folded on top of the tunic and to finish off the ensemble was a gold encrusted crown struck with rubies and garnets.

He looked away from his clothes and onto his study. He had left pile of notes and quills scattered everywhere in a mess of letters, pedigree charts, and family history that the servants knew full well never to touch. Unwilling to think about anything of state at the moment he turned himself over and tried to bury his face in his pillows. They were soft and still warm from sleep. But as he was just finding comfort in his sprawled state he felt the sun touch his bare skin. Starting with his shoulders and extending to his lower back, it kissed his arms and neck in a tantalizing way that clearly said 'Time to get up. Come outside and greet me'. With another grunt he lifted his head and finally sat up. He had to admit, it was beautiful outside. It would be a perfect morning to ride down through the orchards. No one would be awake right now, except the servants who prepared breakfast and he could avoid anyone easily. He looked around  
the room again, hugging his knees to his chest. "Could I make it back in time?" he thought to himself. The prince of Wales had arrived very late last night and he had spent a frenzied hour or two preparing beds and meals for him as well as his twenty-odd servants, five carriages, twenty-two horses and three hounds. Not that the king did not have room for them all, but he had expected Prince Donovan to arrive next week and had not been in a good humor to find the king (the prince' father) sending his diligent so early.

With those thoughts he made up his mind and threw his covers away from himself. If he was going to spend the rest of the day arguing points of trivial nature to a boy of no more then eighteen just so he could get the services of the King of Wales (Who didn't even have the decency to come himself) to aid France then the least he could do for himself was take in the day and make sure the sun still rose in the east. He walked past his stately attire to his wardrobe which held much more suitable clothing for a spirit such as his.  
Pulling out a torn pair of trousers, a clean cotton shirt, his old ridding boots, a black riding vest and his leather gloves he threw them onto the bed one by one. Then turning around before riffling through his dresser for a pair of drawers he turned to the window  
and threw it open full scale to get a good look at his lands that lay before him. He closed his eyes and extended his arms as the sun reached out and touched every part of his bare body. Oh the feeling of it was overwhelming... if only...

He stopped himself. Opened his eyes and shook his head angrily. "You can't start doing that again." He whispered to himself. "You're only hurting yourself". He looked again to his lands and decided he would ride through the orchards today. He had a new filly that was as high spirited as his attitude was this morning and would take everything off his mind before he was to take on "the beast" again. He turned to his bed and sighed. The feeling of overwhelming loneliness was creeping back in, as if it knew he wasn't strong enough this morning to brush it off with a wave and a nod.

He walked again to his bed, tiptoeing so that no servant or the like would hear that he was awake. He pulled on his drawers first and then his trousers, realizing that he would have to break in a new pair because the current ones held large holes a little too close to the crotch for comfort. He pulled on his shirt and tied up the laces loosely, his vest followed afterward. Taking his boots in his hand he crossed the room to the other side of the bed. It was a massive one. Made of Cherry-wood and Brass he had always loved its intricate carving on the head board and the way the feet were created to look like a base of trees. It was large enough to hold a family of eight but at the moment it seemed to hold nothing but cold memories. He fought the loneliness as he leaned over and with the gentlest of care smoothed the pillows on that side. It was the same every morning. He would ensure that when he went to bed he would be too tired to think about the absence, but in the morning it would all come rushing back to him, as if only waiting for him to give it proper attention. "Oh, I miss you" he said softly to the pillow. "I miss you and you're not even worlds away. Your just on the other side of the corridor" Then with a rush of impatience he pulled on his boots and tied his hair up loosely. It was neatly trimmed and sat regally on his shoulders. If he left now, he knew he would be back in plenty of time to get dressed and ready for his long day.

Despite himself he glanced back once more. The spot where his wife should have been sleeping still lay empty and as in every morning he knew it wasn't some dream that she wasn't there. 'You have made it that way' he would remind himself. But that didn't stop any kind of pain. It would linger with him long throughout the day and finally till tonight when he could throw himself onto his pillow, bare naked and exhausted till he would have to face it again on the following morning. With this King Christian, leader of France herself and husband to the most beautiful women this world had ever seen Queen Belle, strode purposefully out the door and down to the stables to heal his wounds on sunlight and the free wind.


	2. Memories of Sophia Belle

_Authors Note: This chapter is almost entirely back-story. It's allot of catching up on what has happened and it really let's the reader know about Christian's and Belle's relationship. Most of the text is centered on a flashback; I'm not going to do anything special with it. I'm sure you can basically figure out when he is talking about his past and when he is talking about the present. If you have any confusion... e-mail me and I'll explain... or you could just throw rotten vegetables... _

_**"Sono col bambino, il mio amore"**_ means **"I am with child, my love"**

_**"Oh il Padre, che l'arte nel cielo, santifi e il tua nome"**_means **"Oh Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name"**

_I actually don't know what the Latin one means, something about a sleeping dragon. To all those who can actually speak Italian or Latin and have discovered that well... I suck... Ummmm it's just a story and I elect to be ignorant. But enjoy anyways._

**_Revised Authors Note May 1, 2010: Okay this is the new and improved version of this chapter. After reading through the original I realized that the whole thing was a little barf-worthy. If you don't agree with that then I appreciate you more then you will ever know. BUT I understand that when the very author of the work doesn't want to read their masterpiece, something needs to change. I had allot of trouble trying to decide if my revisions were a good idea. I mean it is the second chapter of the story. I hope new readers won't be totally offended by this chapter. I happen to find it really humorous and allot more realistic. A relationship people can understand and relate to. If not see a little of the movie Belle and Prince in my writing. I did try. Most of the dialogue has changed and some of the sentence structure in the beginning has been revised. I hope I'll get some feedback over it. Enjoy and review._**

**Chapter Two: Memories of Sophia-Belle**

Christian Aiden Constantine Montengio Beaumont of the house of D'Roseienne had a regal quality about him that he could never quite get rid of, try as he might. He was something of a complicated man and he carried the weight of a past he both loved and regretted. By nature, Christian was poetic. Unfortunately, those who did not know him well would not have guessed this characteristic in him. For the most part, people simply saw Christian the King who happened to have a temper to rival that of Zeus. And _most_ people would choose the thunderbolt over Christian's fury. Yet, thankfully to all, he did not lose it often. He had learned very early in his youth the repercussions of being angry with people who didn't deserve it and saying he learned the hard way was an understatement.

At the moment he was feeling his age. His joints were taking a long time to loosen and he could feel the beginnings of arthritis in his hands. He wasn't ready to be old and he sulked over the whole affair often when he thought no one would notice. This one musing was what was keeping our King's mind off what he didn't want to actually think about. He had saddled his energetic filly in record time and without hesitation the girl had plunged into the cool air of the early morning. It was only a matter of moments before she found her footing completely and was at a full scale run. Christian's heart leapt for moment and lifted for the first time in weeks from his boots and into its rightful place inside his chest. He was exhilarated to be running this fast and urged the horse harder in her strong gait. Finding it very easy to become one with this horse, he allowed his mind to clear with every hoof beat that pounded the soft, wet ground.

Almost a half hour went by as they ran together like this. Christian urged her into a soft trot when they finally eased over the last hill that led into his orchards. She slowed and snorted heavily through her nose, attempting to force him over to the trees that she was sure held fruit for her to pluck at. Taking a long look around him, Christian sighed heavily at the view of his fruit trees. It was a pitiful sight to behold and he looked longingly as his rows and rows of apples, peaches, figs, pears, plums, and dates stood withered and dry. They held very little fruit and their leaves were nothing but a pasty green that turned your stomach sour to look at. Despite the fact that they were coming upon peek harvest season it was the simple truth that his orchard would die soon if it did not rain.

Christian was the king of France. He had been so for almost seventeen years after taking the throne back from his cousin who had ruled the land for ten years prior. He had been a young man of twenty-one then, newly married, and as ignorant as a child but in time the make-shift government that had been created in his absence handed the throne over to the rightful heir. The people had not accepted him at first. His cousin and the eight chancellors that had served as advisors to the king oppressed them and they were taxed mercilessly. But many remembered Christian's tyrannical father and knew whom they would prefer.

And then they had met Belle. Belle was the Prince- turned- King's new bride that had popped up almost as suddenly as he had. And she was beautiful. Stories of her spread across the land in waves and hundreds came from miles around to witness the Goddess that their new king had taken to wife. Little did they know that underneath all her diamonds and pearls Belle was nothing more then a ruined merchant turned inventor/farmers daughter. She came from a small village outside a forest near the borders of France. But that was what Christian loved most about her. He knew that no matter how many fancy balls he escorted her to she was genuine, untainted by royalty and all the evil that comes with it.

Except that even then Christian had known that no one from the peasants to the Pope would allow their king to be married to the offspring of what many considered the village idiot. That is, if Christian hadn't had the most intelligent and trustworthy advisors in the world. A man by the name of Cornelius Cogsworth was the one to give the most credit to. He had known Christian's mother when she was a child bride and had been witness to Christian's birth. He had lived in the castle a good long time and had been a bearer in the burdens his master had been given for ten long years.

And Cogsworth would have been damned if he would have allowed some riffraff to force apart the girl that had saved his master's life. And so in an event completely uncharacteristic of Cogsworth he had broken the rules and wrote up fake pedigree charts of a long lost cousin who was noble by some far stretch of the imagination. With "official" papers to wave in everyone's face people accepted her with open arms.

If only that was the end to this story and they had lived happily ever after. But you see in real stories, there are no such things as happy endings because things never end. They only begin again. And here we are to begin again.

Christian sat on his horse for a very long while. He thought about a great many things as he nudged her into a walk down the path to an apple tree were he finally dismounted and sat down leaning his head against the trunk and closed his eyes. His filly sniffed at his neck and blew snot into his face but then became disinterested and began to graze slowly on the dry grass. He looked to his horse and with an amused grin realized that he had not named her yet. She was beautiful. A thoroughbred Arabian, the color of wheat and gold, she had a bad habit of biting people's heels when they walked past and breaking free from her stall to eat Christian's roses, which were the only thing in his gardens that did not look long since dead. Chuckling to himself Christian now knew exactly what to call his little horse for she reminded him of the second love of his life. That would be his daughter Sophia-Belle……

It wasn't yet sixteen years ago. He remembered everything in perfect detail. He had been sitting in the library. It was a cold Sunday afternoon. They had been at mass and Christian was trying to escape the turmoil his country was in after it had been delivered to him. There were riots in the streets, people were starving to death and penniless from the massive taxation that had run ramped for the past ten years. He was not equipped at the time to care for the entire population of France and so he had run to the safest place he knew. The library. He remembered that he was trying to learn to read as well as study three different languages at once because in order to run his country, he would first have to understand what half the documentation was actually saying and most of it was in Latin.

_"Profundus in quietis nox noctis , Extraho somnus in raptor tumulosus iugum"._ He could read it but it just didn't make sense to him. He tried to sound the letters out as Belle had taught him._ "Profun...Pro... Profundus in quietis nox noc...noctis, Ex...Ex... Ex..." _

He stopped as a scent reached his nose. She had been standing near him for almost five minutes and his brain had not registered her there for the frustration he had been under.

_"I would like to be alone right now."_ He said aloud to her standing behind him.

_"And I would like to be with __**you**__ right now"_ She replied before materializing out from behind a shelf of books. It had been at a time when he was still so in awe of her beauty that he had trouble looking at her steadily.

_"What word are you having trouble with?"_ She asked soothingly as she inched towards him. He threw down his quill, knowing he couldn't bring himself to send her away.

_"I don't want to study Latin anymore"_ He replied childishly. Stretching his bare feet out onto the soft carpet, he pushed the books away from him and turned his eyes away as if to say the subject closed. If truth were told, he had wanted her to be there, helping him. But pride had grown over the tender spots and his stubborn nature, regardless of any life lessons he had learned, was coming on full strength.

_"Alright then"_ she replied, easing herself into a chair next to him. _"Then we shall study Italian". _She opened a book and placed it in front of him. Pointing to a sentence in the middle of the text she smiled warmly. Patient as ever and very much in love with this man, childish as he may be, she would not be perturbed by his temperamental nature.

_"Oh il Padre, che l'arte nel cielo, santificato è il tua nome."_

He looked at the sentence a long moment. It looked like something he should know, he knew that he should know it. _"Oh il Padre..." _He stopped, feeling foolish _"Oh il Padre, Che l'arte nel ci...cielo, san...san...san..."_

_"Santificato"_ she encouraged. He couldn't help it. He felt so discouraged with himself for not understanding these words that he slammed the book shut again, nearly missing her fingers.

_"Belle, this is stupid! I don't want to be prompted like a little child!"_

She looked at him for a long time as he sat there trying to stare her down, though he knew he would lose. In reality he was starting to not care. What was the point anymore anyways? Who did he really think he was fooling? Deep down he was a fraud and he knew it. A king who couldn't read, or speak any languages aside from his own? One who couldn't hardly communicate his thoughts in public let alone carry on long conversations with members of the royal class? And he didn't even want to discuss the embarrassing fact that he had a great amount of trouble eating without dropping food on himself or spilling something. He had decided that he was a failure and nothing she said was going to change his mind. Or so he thought.

As slow as the ages she reached out her hands and took both his in hers.

_"Translate for me. Lei è più intelligente poi lei pensa."_

She could see his mind working, for a moment he didn't speak then with halting speech he finally said, _"'You...you are smarter then you think'"._

_"L'amo molto"_

_"'I love you very much'" _Christian paused for a moment and then whispered softly_ "I love you too."_

Belle nodded and then continued. _"Non rinunciare a te stesso. Per io non farà mai."_

_"'Do not give up on yourself. For I never will.'"_

She smiled at him assuredly and then tenderly leaned over and kissed his hands. The touch of her moist lips caused shivers to rise up and down his spine. He looked at her longingly and then, defeated, laid his head on their tangled fingers. It was a long while before anyone spoke. There seemed to be an awful gloom between the two of them. Finally she broke through it.

_"Sono col bambino, il mio amore"._

It was spoken in the softest of whispers that he was sure he had not heard her correctly. He blinked several times _"Wait, I think you said that wrong. 'Bambino' is child"_

She was silent and he strained his ears to hear her correct herself but she never did. Christian blinked again, his face still cupped by their conjoined hands. He had forgotten how to breath and quite suddenly the pit of his stomach plummeted. He jerked his head up suddenly and searched her face frantically.

_"What are you saying?"_ he finally uttered.

_"Christian, I've known for a month. I knew you would be afraid but it's going to be alright" _He felt his knees turn into liquid but even then he tried to stand up. His chair clattered to the floor behind him. He opened his mouth several times but could not manage to say anything.

His world was spinning around him and he couldn't even make himself fight the struggle; he simply stood there. She rose from her chair slowly. It wasn't that she had thought this was the wrong time; it was simply the fact that she had run out of time. No matter when she had told him, she knew that he could react this way and so she stood still, allowing him to digest her words. He shook his head hard as if this would somehow change her mind about the truth she had just confirmed to him.

Belle frowned, not liking this. She didn't like his reaction one bit and had absolutely no idea how to calm his sudden trembling anxiety. His face had become a strange pale color and it made his wild blue eyes seem that much more animalistic. In some ways she had expected him to react with a little trepidation but this response to her revelation was far more dramatic then she had anticipated. She watched with a mixture of disappointment and fear as her husband attempted to stumble away from the table.

_"I... I think I need a drink!"_ he said as he turned himself about face. But it wasn't more then a few steps before he crashed into the bookshelf she had been hiding behind only a few minutes before. Books came cascading down all around him, knocking him in the shoulders and in the back of his head. It was pitiful as she watched her lover sink himself to his knees and attempt to retrieve the lost books as he continued to hold his breath with a look of stark panic across his face. _"I am so sorry, I'm sorry…" _He mumbled, though to whom, Belle wasn't quite sure.

Shaking her head worriedly, she rushed across the floor to him and sank to her own knees. He attempted to push her comforting hands away from himself but this only made her more determined and she forcefully took his face in her hands. He gritted his teeth painfully together and seemed to see everything in the room but her. His eyes darted from the door, to the table where he had been sitting, to the floor where the books lay. Pulling his face so that it was directly on front of her she gave him a total of ten seconds before she shook his face in her hands gently.

"_Christian…."_ She said hopping to knock him out of his self-inflicting suffocation. _"Christian breath! Christian, let out your breath!"_

Raising his chin up, he exhaled loudly, blowing the little hairs around her temples out of her face. He choked a little before he caught his voice again which sounded strangled and a bit out of place

"_Belle! Please tell me you are having a lovely joke! You cannot be serious about this."_

Belle furrowed her brow at this, showing him she did not care for the assumption.

"_Christian, I would never joke about something like this. That would be a horrible thing to do!"_

He inhaled and exhaled quickly, scrambling for clarity amidst his racing thoughts.

"_But…But…How? How did this happen?!"_

She tilted her head downwards slightly and gave him such a look full of meaning that he closed his eyes dramatically and let his shoulders sag a little.

"_Alright, I know __**how**__, but…are you very certain?"_

Belle nodded her head looked away for a moment before returning to her answer. _"I called the physician into our room a few weeks ago. When…When I really thought I might be."_

Christian opened his mouth and let it hang there for a moment. _"You saw Claude without me? You didn't even tell __**me**__ but you spoke to __**him**__?"_ He sounded so hurt and injured that Belle had to curb the desire to smile at the pouty way he wouldn't look at her. As if she had betrayed him somehow.

"_Dearest, when would you have found time? With everything you have been doing the last six months I am surprised they give you time to eat. I couldn't bother you with something I wasn't even sure about. Give you more needless things to worry over."_

Christian glared at the ground, clutching his hands into fists and pressing them into the floor. _"Well, it is quite obvious that somewhere in there I found enough time, in the last six months, to make a right mess of our lives!"_ He jerked his head up and looked at her with a mixture of pleading and anguish. _"Belle…I just don't understand! I was not even trying to put a child into you! I thought I was being so careful not to."_

Without looking at his sad, round eyes she looked out at the corner of her vision to try and make her next statement come out tactfully.

"_Maybe at first you were…but…lately…"_ She paused for a moment. _"But…lately, well… I am actually quite surprised we did not start a baby sooner…with…well…with the way you have been…."_

She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence. They both felt a little uncomfortable when speaking of their coupling aloud and neither wanted to fill in the unfinished words. Christian's mind flew over the past six months and he realized the truthfulness in her revelation. He had been covered in anxiety since the day he had transformed back into himself. Every day he was attacked with some new problem, months and months spent in studies and classes to bring him to a point where he could govern his country. A country he had to fight to have returned to him from his cousin who wasn't all that happy to give it up. Day after day, hour after hour, he was put through his paces, becoming more and more what they wanted him to be. So it really shouldn't have made anyone wonder that when he was finally released from his duties as king the only thing he wanted to do was find his new bride and spend as much time as he could with her until they drug him away again. When one's day is filled to the brim with a thousand different words that tend to mean almost nothing to the speaker the last thing one wants to do is talk more. He didn't want to communicate with words when he was finally with Belle and so he didn't. He loved her and made love to her and if he tended to take out some of his frustrations of his busy life in their bed with her, well, he hadn't really thought much of it until now. What had seemed like beautiful memories of love manifested physically now looked like a horrible affront to his morals. He had been such a fool and he knew it.

Burying his the heel of his hands into his eyes he moaned softly and tried to block out his stupidity. _"Oh God! You are right! Oh, how could I have become such a cad! I have turned into Lumiere who has no self control to speak of!"_

Belle immediately slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to cover the laugh that was bubbling to the surface. Christian didn't seem to notice or else he mistook her widened eyes for disgust in him. His own grew rounder and he looked at Belle as a puppy would when being scolded.

"_I should have listened to him, you know. He tried to tell me all kinds of disturbing things one can do to keep a girl from conceiving a child and I should have believed him. He would know too. The filthy bugger!"_

He muttered the last part under his breath as if somehow he could pin this whole situation on his butler and somehow take the blame off of himself.

Belle removed her hand from her mouth, still battling her smile from emerging and looked at her husband curiously.

"_When did he try to tell you those things?"_

"_The night before our wedding."_ Christian answered with a hint of disgust in his voice. _"It was awful! Those two fools forced me into a chair--"_

"_Who?"_

"_Cogsworth and Lumiere of course. They told me it was customary to discuss the facts of being married to the…the groom. As if I didn't already know about those things!"_

Christian finished this rant indignantly and folded his arms onto his broad chest and glowered at the memory.

Belle was having a wonderful time picturing the scene and wondered why Christian couldn't see the humor in it.

"_You never told me about this."_

He looked up into her brown eyes with horror. _"I should bloody well think __**not**__. I was trying to protect your gentle innocence. The things they told me would cause your ears to ring!"_

"_What kinds of things?"_

Christian shuddered and shook his head trying to block it all out. _"You don't want to know… Things I was supposed to expect and do…to you."_ He paused for a second wondering if she had caught his meaning. Then he again stared right into her face_. " I swear on my parent's graves if I ever hear the words… stroke and… penetrate and…and intercourse come out of the mouth of Cogsworth again I'll be ill!"_

Perhaps it was the fact that he looked like he was going to be ill right then and there from just talking about the memory that Belle finally lost it. Putting her hands over her face she began to laugh so hard her whole body shook with the movement. Christian was so startled by her reaction that he could only sit dumbfounded for a few moments as he listened to her laughter. With her hands pressed so firmly onto her face, she couldn't help but snort several times before he finally found his words again and glared impressively in her direction.

"_Belle! This is not a laughing matter!"_

Snorting once more she released her face from her hands for him to see several tears of laughter streaking down her cheeks.

"_Oh 'Tian, yes it is! Would you have preferred to sit in on the conversation Mrs. Potts gave __**me**__ when she explained exactly what you were going to do on our wedding night?"_

Christian went a slightly paler shade of white and made a gagging motion at the thought of his former nanny discussing his sexual abilities or lack thereof to his future bride. Shaking his head firmly he set his jaw tight.

"_A most emphatic no-thank-you! What women talk about behind closed doors is quite clearly not for a man's ears!"_

Blowing out a derisive sigh through her nose, Belle nodded her head. _"Well I have to agree with you on that. I doubt you would be able to handle it."_

Christian gave her a suspicious look. _"What is that supposed to mean?"_

"_It means that you have a tendency to shy away from things you don't understand."_

Christian scowled at her assessment of him. _"I understand things perfectly well and I do not shy away from anything!"_

Without even missing a beat she responded to him. _"That's not true, look at you! You're lying in a pile of books because you are shying away like a skittish colt!"_

Not seeming to be able to come up with a counterargument to this, he wracked his brain trying to come up with something truly scathing to throw back at her. She would not win this argument; his dignity wouldn't allow it. After a few moments had passed he threw his head back and banged it on the bookshelf roughly. Giving her a withering look he clenched his fist.

"_Well what is it you want me to do? I'm already trying to do everything! God, I cannot even spend time with my wife without getting myself into trouble. I do not know why I even bother anymore!"_

Belle looked confused and blinked her eyes several times. _"What do you mean? You didn't do anything wrong."_

He gave a self-loathing chuckle. _"Oh didn't I? I thought that was why you came in here."_

Belle glared at him a little and set her mouth in a thin line of disapproval. _"That is __**not**__ why I came in here. I came here because I never get to see you. You know, if you cared to notice I have also had a rather big shock as of late and if it isn't too much trouble, __**your majesty**__, I would like a little comfort from you!"_

Christian clenched his teeth in an ugly grimace that reminded Belle of a lion. She was contradicting him again. Why did she have to do that? It was one of the things that infuriated him the most about her and here she was pushing him to his wits end. He wondered for a moment if this was some sort of symptom of being with child. Increased annoyingness. With an air of defeat he threw up his hand sarcastically and let out a huge breath of air.

"_Ha! What comfort did you think I could give you? I cannot even placate our people enough to keep them from throwing rotten food at my carriage as I ride through the streets. Maybe I should just go comfort a wild animal into eating me and put myself out of __**my own**__ misery!"_

Belle closed her eyes in disgust at his self-pity. Without opening her eyelids she let the impatience be heard in her voice_. "Christian, no more disparaging remarks! I hate it when you do that."_

Christian's hackles would have risen at this if he had had any_. "Well I hate that you contradict me all the time." _He countered with a little venom to his voice.

"_And I hate the way you hide in here and sulk!"_ She said finally looking at him steadily.

"_I hate that you came in here to bother me when I'm trying to sulk!"_

Belle blew out a large breath through her nose and then spat out as quickly as the words would come, _"And I hate it that you aren't excited about our baby!"_

Neither spoke for several moments and when Christian finally looked up into his wife's face he was dismayed to see a slow tear streaking down her cheek. He sunk his shoulders feeling such intense guilt he would have liked to hit himself. Feeling a lump the size of a boulder fill his throat he gazed at Belle as she tried to pretend the tear was not coming down her face. Without even realizing it, Christian's own large blue eyes filled up to the rim as the weight of their oncoming parenthood finally fell upon him. He shook his head and blinked several time to try and push the tears back but this only served to let them escape. They tore down his face and dripped off his chin onto his chest.

"_You don't understand…"_ he finally whispered to her, _"I cannot be a father. You don't want me to be a father, Belle."_

She choked a little on her own emotions and grabbed hold of his arm, clenching him tightly. _"Yes I do!"_ she said forcefully. _"I would not have married you if I did not want you to be a father to my children."_

Christian angrily grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his own. _"And what kind of a father do you think I'm going to be?! You have no idea what you are talking about. I am my own father's son and I could be just like him! I will not do it! I will not do that to our child. I'll lock myself up in the library and never come out for the rest of our baby's natural life! Do you hear me?"_

Belle shook her head ruefully and with such tenderness ran her fingers along his temple and jaw. _"Oh dearest, it will be alright. I promise it will be alright."_

"_No it won't!"_ He near-shouted. _"It won't ever be alright!"_

Slowly, and ever so gently, Belle leaned forward and took her lover's face in her hands. _"Now you look at me."_ She said firmly forcing him to keep his attention on her. "_"You are not your father. You have the right to change and be whatever you want. I know it hurts and you still can't bring yourself to admit it, but you were given that chance a long time ago. And as painful as it may feel, that Enchantress may have had that idea in mind when she met you."_

She was right; those words did hurt. They hurt to hear and he wanted to shut them out. But that wouldn't make the baby go away; he would still have to face it. With a sad sigh he lowered his head and buried his face in her breast. She wrapped her hands around his neck and stroked the loose hair on the back of his head. He let out a painful moan and she felt hot tears press into the fabric of her bodice. His tears were like knives and she couldn't bare the thought of him crying over this. _"Shhhh"_ she whispered into his ear and then kissed his lobe softly.

With one last ditch effort he finally whimpered so that she could barely hear him. _"But I am a beast…." _

She didn't speak at first and he couldn't bare the silence for more then a minute. Tentatively he raised his head so that he was once again looking into her face.

"_No"_ She shook her head and the softest of smiles graced her features. _"You are not a beast. You are my love. And that…is all that matters."_

Christian choked on a soft sob but did not entirely allow it to escape. Finally he wrapped his arms around her neck and crushed her to his chest. _"I love you so much! And I'm sorry that I didn't notice you needed me sooner. I will not let you down again, Belle. I promise."_

Holding him almost as tightly as he was holding her she kissed the shoulder her face was pressed into. _"You are going to be such a wonderful father. I know it."_

Squeezing her to him for just a moment more he released her and sat back on his heels. They looked about themselves at the scattered books and said nothing for a few moments.

"_So what are we supposed to do now?"_ He finally asked thinking that there must be something required of him now that they had a baby started.

She smiled and shrugged knowing very little more then he did. _"Do you still want that drink?"_

He gave her a pained look and then nodded his head gravely. _"Very much."_

She smiled. _"Claude told me I wasn't to have any more of that until after the baby is born."_

Christian lifted one shoulder in a half shrug and gave a ghost of a smile. _"Suits me fine. I don't have to share that way."_ Then eying her suspiciously, Belle watched as he made a face that indicated he was screwing himself up to ask something he wasn't sure he should. Finally he opened his mouth.

"_Are you going to get very big?"_ He said this softly as he stared at her stomach. She blinked once or twice before answering.

"_Probably. Does that bother you?"_

He looked from her belly and then up to her face. _"No, I don't think so."_ Pause. _"Goodness, I do not even know what to expect! The people will ask me questions and I will not know how to answer them!"_

Belle smiled at his insecurities and took his hand in hers once more. _"Don't worry about it. We will figure everything out. I believe in you. Remember that."_

Christian nodded his head and began to get up off the floor when he felt a tug at his hand. Belle was looking at him expectantly as if he had forgotten something. When he realized that it was her he was forgetting he slowly lowered himself back down and sidled up as close to her as he dared. With only moments of hesitation he lowered his lips down onto hers.

To this day if he didn't remember anything else, he remembered that kiss. Her lips, so soft and warm, gently moved along with his own. At first he did not want it to go too far, for fear he would recoil at the thoughts of what they had made together. But as soon as her mouth parted into his he found that that moment was exactly what he had been missing. He kissed her long and hard that day and she, in turn, kissed him with passion and tenderness that she held for him and only him.

It really was what got them through it all. Their love.


	3. Separation

_Authors Note: Here is the third chapter and to those who are sticking with me to actually read my work... here is the end of the back-story chapters. Not much to say on the matter but the actual story is coming in the next little bit and I will try to be really quick about it. Not only to try to hold your attention for as long as possible but also because I have a limited amount of time to write this story... hope I can make it._

**Chapter Three: Separation **

Christian was startled out of his reverie by a loud snort near his face. The horse was growing impatient and the sun was beginning to beat down on them in a murderous fashion. Not quit as beautiful down here as it was in his room that morning. With a sigh, Christian looked into the face of his filly. He smiled at her and then with the slyest of looks to his left then his right he spoke

"How does Sophia sound to you?" The horse cocked her head to one side for a moment then looked away clearly not understanding a word he was saying. With a small shake she began to walk away from him as if to say the subject meant very little to her.

"Oh no you don't" He jumped to his feet which were stiff and sore from sitting on the ground and grabbed at her reigns. She gave an impatient snort and tried to shake them out of his hands. When she realized that he was not going to let go she reared up in frustration. He still didn't let go and pulled her down with a heavy jerk. "Shhhhhh" he said soothingly

"Be still, be still, be still." She could not understand what he was saying but she knew that he was not going to let her go. Resting her head against his chest she blew out impatiently. "Sophia, will do nicely" he whispered. Then kissed her wrinkled nose as she sniffed his pockets for treats. Then he led her around the orchards so that he might have a better look at the damage that the sun was doing at that very moment to his existing fruits. There was a drought going on. Both on his lands and inside his heart. As he watched everything he loved crumble to the ground he could see his family falling apart as well...

Sophia was born and to say that he cherished her was a belittling comment to how he really felt for her. Named for her mother and grandmother on Belles side of the family he loved her with all his heart; making exquisite plans for her future. And for ten years since her birth Christian was able to rule his lands with peace and harmony. The people flourished and their crops grew till there was more food then anyone could eat or sell. But sold they did and the royal treasury became so full that Christian began divvying out funds to the poor so that soon there was rarely anyone who suffered. They learned to love their king more fiercely then had ever been known.

Most town halls held large portraits of this royal family when Sophia-Belle was newly born. It was a mark of how, yes indeed, France was the country of love and harmony.

Then Belle became pregnant again. It was almost as shocking as the first time because they had not expected to have any more children. Yes, they had tried, but after five years it had begun to seem a little useless and they had contended themselves with their little princess. Then suddenly they were expecting again and the country was bursting to learn if the king would finally have a son as his heir to the throne.

Christian, even to this day remembered the day the doctor came to call upon Belle in her twenty-fourth week of pregnancy. He remembered how his Doctor Claude had looked at her stomach skeptically circling her over and over again. Christian had amused himself by picturing this man as a bed warmer. He did bear a striking resemblance. But that moment was short lived. He recalled the very way the doctor had looked at her. Christian had been leaning again the wall nonchalantly, trying to act as if this was all routine for him. He remembered the first thing that had come out of the doctor's mouth on that first visit was to Belle.

"You know, you really are massive."

Christian had glared at him, thinking it was awfully rude to exclaim the size of the queen right in front of herself and her husband. Then taking another turn around her as she laid on the bed with her dress lifted to her chest he eyed her swollen stomach carefully. With tenderness he began to prod her on one side then another. Then he had laid his head on her listening intently to a sound only he could recognize inside her belly. Christian remembered how Claude had finally lifted himself up and looked very gravely first to him and then to his wife. Taking Christian by the arm he had led him to the window and solemnly looked at him.

"Christian, I've known you since I delivered you myself and I must say I have no wish to cause you distress but you need to be prepared for this might not end well."

"What's the matter" Christian had replied searching his doctors face.

"Your majesty, she's carrying twins."

It had been one of those moments when time stood still. Christian had looked to his wife in utter shock to find she had risen herself from the bed and her face read exactly what he was feeling at that moment.

"Two….. two of them?"

"Indeed. And I must press upon you the seriousness of this. Even if she does survive with both babies and perfect health I would tell you that you should consider not having anymore children as I say this is doing considerable wear on her body."

And with that the doctor had bid them a good evening and had retreated to his quarters on the south side of the grounds where a good deal of the workers and non-servants lived such as Christians Major-Domo Cornelius Cogsworth, His Butler Jean-Luc Lumiere and his old nanny and current head of household Cordelia Potts as well as her plethora of adopted children and one biological child Christophe, nicknamed Chip, who at that time was turning seventeen years.

The next few months came far too quickly and Christian found that he could not remember ever being so anxious. Soon, he found out, that he had had good reason for this. When Belle's time came for her to deliver her babies it would seem that the entire world had decided to pour out drastic misfortune on her. The birth was both excruciating and dangerous. Though she had carried them almost to their full term give or take a few weeks it bore a startling resemblance to a premature birth. Christian, as in Belles first delivery, was not allowed to be present in the room. The midwives knew he would only be a burden and most did not think it wise to allow the King to witness his wife's death. And so he had sat in a drawing room down the corridor. At first he had thought to leave and then come back later but then thought better of it. If the babies were born, Belle would want him close by. But then the hours stretched on. At times Mrs. Potts or a mid-wife would come along to check on him but with his sensitive hearing he knew exactly what was going on in that bedroom. He could hear her every scream and knew that the longer this took, the less likely they all would survive. When it had become late in the evening he was to be found clutching his ten year old daughter to him and preying to God that he could be allowed to see his wife again.

Meanwhile the doctor and midwives were rushing around doing their best to keep the queen comfortable. For one startling moment Belle had stopped breathing altogether. Everyone had stood motionless for almost a minute not daring to breath, not daring to hope but then she took a gasping breathe and in a flurry of movement the doctor had ripped off her thin cotton gown and began massaging her heart in an attempt to keep it beating just a little bit longer. Then finally the babies were born. They were both small and shriveled. It was chaos before anyone decided to exclaim that they were both boys. Belle lay on her back, heaving, staring onto the ceiling and after much time the doctor decided she needed to be moved and cared for. She was not allowed to hold her sons and indeed she had been too weak to do so. Many were stunned that all three had survived but skeptics still believed any number of them would finally give up the ghost. But then after almost three weeks they were all recovering slowly. Christian could not have had more conflicting emotions. His elation at having two baby boys was almost enough to take all sense away from him. He wanted to rejoice and celebrate but in amongst the entire melee that had come from this venture, Christian was plagued with a pain deeper then he could remember.

Most were not willing to say it, but their eyes spoke it sure. The queen was lucky to be alive. After her delivery she was put on bed rest and stayed there for two months were she slipped in and out of sleep, ate very little and grew so thin that Christian was afraid he could see shapes threw her skin from the other side of her. His sons were finally beginning to plump out and look healthy. They were weaned on a wet nurse as Belle had been entirely too unhealthy to feed them herself, though she had wanted to do so. When Christian had asked her what she wanted to name them, she had given him very little answer and simply told him she wanted him to do it. He knew her spirits were almost broken and so he had named the first Jean-Luc Cornelius after his Butler and major-domo and he named the second Paris Maurice after her father and their countries prominent city. She had smiled at that but the nagging feeling that he had was intensifying each day. Then when she had finally gained some strength she had gone to see her babies only to realize they were not new-born anymore. They had been weaned and now drank goat's milk from a bottle. This was a crushing blow to her for after all the pain and fear she had been cheated of her chances to at least hold her new-born baby boys. She feared they would not be close to her at all because she had not suckled them herself and had cried herself into Christian's arms for weeks and finally back into her bed where he was helpless to do anything to help her.

At this same time Christian's kingdom was in a bad way. He had left it almost totally unattended for four months and had found that it didn't like that at all. Letters from all the four corners of the land were piling up in his study and dignitaries from all over were storming in to discuss urgent matters of state and policies that he barely had time to think about before he was required to pass this law or that decree. And at last the most crushing blow and come out, at least thus far for Christian. At the time the son of his former nanny had finally reached his seventeenth year. Christian had grown very close to Chip and at times treated him like a son. Mrs. Potts was fiercely proud of all her children but Chip always seemed to hold a special place in everyone's heart. Well after much deliberation at his nanny's side they had made a decision that if Chip be willing he would go to England to be educated in the finest schools as an apprentice where when he was finished in eight years would return and could become one of Christian's advisors. Then he could be married with a large bridal settlement provided by the king of France and him and his kin would never have to work as servants again.

Cordelia Potts wept for joy at this and knew that she had not failed once in raising any of her children, including Christian himself. And with her undying faith in all around her she had died shortly after Chip had left. It had been a wheeling experience. Chip remained in England, knowing it had been his mothers wish that he would stay there until his apprenticeship was finished. Christian, on the other hand, as well as Mrs. Potts' three other sons and four daughters were left to pick up the pieces that his beautiful nanny had left behind. Christian remembered the night after he had buried her in his own family catacombs, claiming that he would honor her as his own mother, for that was what she had been. Then he had retreated to his study, his life in shambles. His wife still trying to shake off her depression and be his wife again, his country screaming at him constantly, and now his very core and center was gone as was her son and one of his dearest friends. It was the first time Christian had ever thought to drink his sorrows away and he had found that it came much easier to do then he had expected. As it turns out he was not able to hold his liquor well and after three days of complete drunkenness and solitude he finally emerged from his study ragged and sober. Decisions on his mind he washed himself, ate, and finally went to see Belle in her room where she was nearly recovered and in very good spirits. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to say and he knew that he was hurting himself more then anyone else involved, or so he had assumed. She had seen it coming and reluctantly had agreed to what would be their final separation.

You see in these times it was fashionable for a King and Queen to live in separate rooms. This was more made of lovers and mistresses to sneak in without the spouse detecting anything but Christian had never desired such a relationship. He had loved his wife and wanted to spend every night wrapped up next to her without pretenses or illusions. But after his coronation it had been suggested that they change things around a bit. She would remain inside the East wing and would have her quarters enlarged slightly so that she could share her rooms with her ladies-in-waiting and he would move from his home in the west wing to the master bedroom just down the corridor and to the right of her. This was long before they had had children and when Sophia was born they had given her a room off the northern side of the castle. The nursery was directly above Christian and he always knew when the boys woke each night. They had made agreements that this was better for when they elected not to share their bed he could spend time in his rooms he had converted into a study and she could spend her evenings chatting and laughing with her maids and ladies. Many of her things were inside his rooms and he even had a small desk and stationary of the sort inside hers. They rarely spent much time apart and it made for a very healthy relationship. But then the twins were born and Christian had watched as his own stupidity had nearly cost him more then he ever had.

With these thoughts and the grim warning his doctor had given to him he made the decision that Belle and himself could no longer share rooms whatsoever. He could see the hurt in her eyes and the longing in his heart nearly broke his resolve but all he had to do was remember how she had looked after the birth and he could remember his duty. He knew this would tear them apart. He knew that what he was doing would connote more then just making love to her. It would mean that the nights when they would stay up talking to each other before or the hours holding her as she drifted off to sleep afterwards were over as well. But stronger still was the absolute knowledge that he would rather spend every night alone and know that she was safely tucked away in her bed alive and well, then to let his passions run loose inside her until he let it go too far and have her lying on a stone slab next to Mrs. Potts. The decision was agreed upon and they separated themselves to almost a formal courtship. He did not allow himself to touch her in any way that would cause insatiable feelings to erupt inside of him. On occasion, right before he would go to the nursery and bid his little sons good-night he would kiss her as he escorted her to her rooms. But he never let himself linger. He never allowed himself the pleasure of her or anywhere near it. Sometimes he would catch her looking at him and he wished against anything that she was longing for him, the way he was longing for her. And this was the way it went on for almost three years. He found the further their relationship fell into nothingness the more he fell in love with her. He would catch the scent of her at times, or feel her hand brush his at the dinner table and he thought he would go crazy for the desire of her.

Then the drought came. At first it started small and Christian paid it very little mind, but then when the second year came on with no rain whatsoever he knew that he had been right in his decisions for if he were focusing on his family, his entire country would have broken to pieces at his feet. He did his best to keep it together. In the last three years he went on three journeys around France, two of them lasting almost six months as he attempted to keep his people fed and in their homes. He nearly emptied his treasury paying for food to be imported from other countries. When that failed and the third year came on strong with very little moisture he knew that he was in dire straits. He began to call in favors from other countries. He bartered, begged, and blackmailed people. He traveled all the way to India's seaport to obtain methods to irrigate the farmlands better. The coast of France was doing a tad better but the grape harvest turned out still poor and the famous wine that could be sold to help feed the families turned to vinegar almost before it reached any kind of export. The poorer families began to die of starvation and he now had people coming from miles around to beg for his help. When he finally did take a good look at what was happening in his own home he found that he had failed to do everything. His sons were six and though he had spent every moment he could with them the most they saw of him was when they were going to sleep and he sang them the same lullaby Mrs. Potts used to sing to him. His daughter on the other hand had somehow blossomed into a woman of sixteen. He was appalled at what he had missed and had taken the last six months to try to repair the damage his absence had caused his family. Though he felt like he no longer understood them, Belle always seemed to stand by him with undaunted faith and courage. She would sit with him long into the night, somewhere public like the great ballroom or dinning halls and sooth his aching heart but even then they both knew that no matter how many pretty words they spoke to each other they still could not bridge the gap they had created, or well, he had created. Sophia was of the proper age to be married and he felt it was time. He wanted her to see the world. He knew that she was trapped in this castle and he could not bear the thought of her sharing the same past he had endured when he had been her age. But somewhere between this journey and that meeting he discovered that his daughter was a fully grown lioness waiting to pounce. He had no idea how she ever decided it was all well and good to speak to him in such a manner but she seemed to loath his very presence. They were like to bulls locked in a fierce battle and never could they come to some compromise. The more he tried to understand her, the more she retreated into her bad humors and bitter remarks.

He attempted to speak to her on courting one of the princes who came to court in aid of France. Many of them were stunned by her beauty and offered amazing bridal settlements but she would hear nothing of it. It was becoming almost hopeless to even speak with her about the weather as he was sure she would try to argue how the sky wasn't in fact blue but red, or something of the sort. As his life swirled around and around, he found himself falling into it deeper and deeper, and every day he had to fight the fight alone, the more he was giving up a little every day.

And now I do believe, we have brought things up to the current beginning to begin this story anew.


	4. The Council

_Authors Note: This chapter will probably not make allot of sense to anyone. But it was necessary to put in here. I've always thought it stupid that The Enchantress was never explained. I mean what kind of person wanders around in storms cursing little boys? I wanted to give her a personality and a purpose. She had to have come from somewhere and this sort of gives her a reason for doing what she was doing. This chapter also introduces our villain and so at least you will now know where HE comes from. So if you are confused now, well it's alright because at least you won't be confused later. _

_I also will put that there is a swear word in here, but if you don't speak French... then don't worry about it. _

* * *

**Chapter Four: The Council. **

Not very far from where Christian was standing there was a forest. It was a simple forest that held nothing inconspicuous, nor dangerous. It was not the forest to which the castle was once prisoner; it was just a forest. But somewhere between this world and the next, in between time and space there was a counsel being held very near this particular forest. Unbeknownst to Christian, his very existence was one of the issues that had pulled this council together...

* * *

Deep inside the wood, around a table made of the night sky sat thirteen chairs, each representing the forces that bound the world together. Eleven people sat in accordance to their station. At the head sat a wizened old man often called Bartholomew. He was once a human but had bidden his eternity to lead the realms of magic. His time was short and so he found it more and more necessary to govern the leaders of this council, in hopes that when the magic died, all would not be lost. At the moment he was finding it more and more difficult to call order to the representatives sent to discuss the current crisis at hand.

At that time there had been something of a plot to destroy the order that was created to keep this world together. His name had been Jerreth. His main charge had been of courting the night to day and day to night. Nothing short of necessary he had not found his lot a joyful one and had made plans to destroy the council. He had been seized upon and was banished to the gap between worlds. In his stead he had left a son. His son being half-human, had very little control over even his own destiny at the council and the boy's bitterness towards his father's fate was clearly a concern for the members. Many were against him being allowed to reign in his father's stead, but then many were very close to young Wilhelm and knew that his humanity could be used for the greater good of the world they were bound to protect.

Bartholomew was losing his patience on the matter. As all sat except Wilhelm who was not regarded as a council member, Bartholomew noted with disgust that the chair directly opposite of him was also empty. His closest ally on matters of the council was electing to be late and it infuriated him. He rapped his staff on the table sharply and called out to the chaos. "We will have order till we can come to some agreement!" he called out to his council members. A man named Neiamia stood up, he bore the resemblance of a Centaur and was the guardian of the animal kingdom as well as one of the council members to uncover Jerreth's plot.

"I motion that we send Wilhelm to greet his father. That way we will know that we don't have to wait for him to come for us while we are undefended."

Another stood up her name was Sheba and she was a Gorgon and the keeper of the past, attempted to plant her own motion. But before a word could be spoken out of her mouth the roar of Bartholomew could be heard all the way through the sphere they were planted in. "We shall not continue our discussion until all council members are present. Am I clear?"

A wild search went about as people looked to see who exactly was missing. "Our Lady Aislin is not present!" He shouted at the riotous group before him. Suddenly a snort came from the back of the room.

"Are you seriously going to make a decision based on her?" Another followed, but very few paid any attention to the creator of the noise. Everyone was well aware of what Wilhelm thought about the whole ordeal.

Sheba then shouted over their heads "She is a human! How are we to make an unbiased decision"  
"Easy to come from the creature with snakes growing out of her head!" Wilhelm shouted at her, clearly insulted by her prejudice against him.  
"You are an inferior race to our kind and it would suit you--" He cut her off.

"Regardless of anything I will not be ruled by the Enchantress of this court! She is a tainted child of filth who casts out her people to ruin the lives of--"  
"THAT IS ENOUGH, WILHELM!!!" came another shout out of Bartholomew. "I will not hear another word out of your mouth!"  
"Or what? You'll banish me to the next world. I'm already fated to live there for eternity because every one of you cannot own to the fact that you could not keep my father in control and now you have to punish me for the crimes to which you all committed in ignoring him."  
"Your father was a foul loathsome creature that stole the human Princess of Agneral and raped her till she eked out of little bit of filth and named it Wilhelm!" Someone spoke from the back.

Quite suddenly there came a burst of lightening and a crash of thunder that shook the whole table. The effect was so loud that many were shaken into their chairs to keep from falling to the ground. Bartholomew was standing now and many knew they had crossed the line with the leader of their council. "I will not have another outburst like that." He said with deathly calm. "And you Wilhelm, will do well not to speak against the Lady Aislin. As you are human you might give a little more respect to your own kind!"

Wilhelm spat on the ground and glared at Bartholomew "She is NOT my kind! She gave up her right long ago. And as you may have noticed Bartholomew, I am not afraid of you! You're fading, old man. And soon we will have nothing to lead us on! So banishing me will not solve your problems because when you're gone who will these leaders turn to for their magic? How will you keep the rest of them from fading right behind you? I ask you that? Is Aislin going to save us? I doubt it. She is too far into the humans to see what is happening around her! But I see!! Do you hear me? I SEE!!!" Wilhelm was now rattling the chains that were binding him to the court. He knew he had everyone's attention and he was not ready to give that up, as long as he could keep Bartholomew quiet he knew he might stand a chance of getting himself out of the mess his father had gotten him into.

"Aislin is not present and I admonish the rest of you to see reason. You are a dieing race! The humans have dominion over the world and we have no way of stopping it!"

"Then what shall we do?" came another shout from the group.

"Yes, explain to us, filthy human!" Sheba cried out from her perch.

There was silence for a moment as Wilhelm regarded them all. Then an evil smile stole across his lips and he finally spoke "The Golden King." He whispered.

What followed bore a startling resemblance to a volcanic eruption. Some laughed and scoffed at the boy while others began to speak dramatically to their neighbor.

"That is a myth and you are a fool if you would believe it!" someone cried.

"It is not a myth! The Golden King lies within the body of the King of France! Why do you think Aislin guards him so well?" Wilhelm reasoned.

"Do you really think a man such as that could hold such power?"

"Whatever the circumstances, he is the Golden King. I propose we take back what is rightfully ours and return peace to this land! Our world is crumbling!"

Bartholomew knew he had lost control once again. He wouldn't regain it this time and he was growing too weary to try.

"Wilhelm, what you are proposing is preposterous! Aislin will---  
"I will not be ruled by Aislin anymore! Her fate with the Golden King is living proof that she is not fit to…."

Suddenly there was silence in the court. A few gasped and Wilhelm shrank away in hopes of not being seen. A woman had appeared in the doorway to the separations between worlds. She was glowing with an inner beauty that was enough to make many bow in her presence. She had the appearance of a human but if you looked closely you knew that there was something just not right about her. Her golden hair flowed to the ground shimmering in and out as it seeped into her dress becoming a part of it and then out again. She was clad in green that filled the room with a forest scent. Her eyes the color of the ocean she had no pupils, and her smile was of roses while her tongue was forked and her ears pointed. She stood there for a moment, a simple smile playing across her face she viewed the scene before her. "Well, well. I see my absence has caused quite a stir" she said evenly. "And Wilhelm! My how you've grown." She smiled at him pleasantly but he recoiled and glared at the ground.

"Aislin, we were just discussing you." Sheba came into view again.

"So I heard! It seems some of you are questioning my activities."

"Indeed" said Wilhelm, still looking at the floor. "We were just discussing your 'Golden King'."

Suddenly Aislin's eyes became as black as night. "And why would that concern you?"

"It doesn't!" Bartholomew barked from the back. "The task at hand is you, Wilhelm. And no more changing the subject. Aislin, if you will kindly sit down, I have had my fill of this council."

Obligingly she sat and seeing her comply the rest followed.

"The matter at hand is not whether we fall out of power or that the humans will overcome us. The matter is within one of our own. Jerreth nearly destroyed all the balance that our kind has created since the dawn of humanity and the world's creation. I have heard the council, quite clearly I might add, from both the council members who deal nothing with humanity and the council members who are in fact human themselves. Do we show a firm hand and send this boy to greet his father? Or do we show mercy, a branch of humanity that is slowly leaving not just us, but the whole of the world we protect? Aislin, what is your view?"

She gazed at the old guardian for a moment and then smiled again at the council. "Bartholomew, I am an Enchantress, not an executioner. I have spent the eternity trying to show mercy to people. I've given up my humanity for it; it's my life. And so I say that regardless of what is happening around us, within the walls of our council, the son of Jerreth is still just a boy, who needs mercy."

"Not from you, meddling hag!" Wilhelm muttered from his spot. But all heard it and turned to look at him in disgust. Aislin remained calm "Perhaps not, but you do need help. Quite clearly."

He finally looked her in the face and allowed every bit of loathing he felt to bear down on her. "The way you helped King Christian?" He whispered vehemently.

"That is enough Wilhelm!" said Bartholomew. He sighed deeply and then looked around at his council members. "I have come to a decision and will not be trifled on this anymore, am I clear with all who can hear me?" most nodded in response.

"Delano, you will make the final verdict and we will follow you. This is your area, after all."

A man stood up. He had the features of a direct opposite to Aislin. Where she was light, he was darkness. His hair black and his skin grey; his eyes looked like round ebony and shone through the darkness to find the lost souls of mankind. He was the keeper of the spirits of humanity and all others likewise. Surprisingly Aislin smiled at him warmly, knowing that this matter was in good hands.

"I will not take this boy. He needs time to change and not become his father."

"Very well, we are dismissed and Wilhelm you are free to roam the earth and the earth alone. We will not strip you of your powers but know that all the eyes of this world and the worlds surrounding are watching you and many waiting for you to slip. I suggest you learn to keep that tongue in your mouth."

And with that Bartholomew vanished without a trace that he had ever been there. For a moment, not a soul moved and then the council members began to speak rapidly before they were to depart for whatever realm to which they dwelled. Aislin arose, just as Wilhelm's chains disappeared and he was crowded upon by threatening glares. Delano stood quietly, observing her as she crossed the room cautiously and then stood at arms length from him. "You came…" he finally spoke with disbelief in his voice.

"Yes." She replied, "I am still a member of this court, regardless of where my loyalties stand."

"Indeed, many believe you are too human for the council. Especially after you came back."

"I had to come back. He needed me. We would have been lost without him."

"Then he is the Golden King from myth?"

Aislin lowered her head and smiled ruefully at the floor.

"Delano…. You of all people should not listen to fairy stories"

"Aislin, this is not a game. Why do you protect this human child so?"

She did not answer him, but even so he was not prepared for her to block him out again.

"Aislin, perhaps you haven't noticed but many of us have no desire to lose our places in this world. Jerreth was prepared to handle the issue and tramp over as many souls that would recon with him. If you believe for one moment that most of us won't do the same to you then you are living in your own fairy story."

"Would you, Delano? Would you destroy me?"

He could feel every part of him burn as she bore into his soul, painful as it was he looked back into her eyes. After as long as he could bring himself to stand there and the council had emptied except the two of them he finally answered.

"No, Aislin. I would stand with you till the worlds come to end." And to her surprise tears were streaming down his pale face. She smiled at him and then took his hand.

"Do not worry yourself upon the responsibilities that I have laid out for myself. I know what I'm doing."

"Indeed. It is not you that I distrust, but Wilhelm."

She sighed heavily and turned away from him to go towards the gate that would release her back into the world she loved so dearly. "I hurt for him Delano. And it was you that freed him, you know."

"I'm aware of my decision. And in the end it shall be me who will be forced to usher him into hell. I do not look forward to that day. He is human, after all…."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You cannot save everyone, Aislin."

A coy smile slipped across her face. "And yet that is my errand, old friend."

"You must take care of your young human. He is our last hope…."

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It was at that very moment, as Aislin and Delano stood regarding each other clearly, that Christian was searching for his pocket watch. He was vaguely aware that the hour was getting on, but certainly he wasn't too off time. He finally found the blasted thing inside his boot and then struggled to get the latch to open the cover. It was a solid gold watch given to him by Major-Domo Cogsworth when he had married Belle. After several agonizing twists the thing came undone to reveal that at that precise moment he was due to be in his own council room with the Prince of Wales. He could just see behind his minds eye his servants running around frantically looking for him throughout the castle. Everyone knowing that if they lost the aid they were to receive from this deal there was nothing left but hell to pay for all. For a moment Christian sat stunned, not daring to breath. Then with a burst of energy he jumped to his feet feeling every ache and pain in his body, knowing that no matter what he did, he was sure he wasn't going to be able to get himself out of this particular mess.

"Merde!!"


	5. Just In Time

_Authors Note: Alright, so this one happens directly after the fourth chapter. On a little note I want to explain that I'm implying that Christian does have a bit of magic up his sleeve. He more or less channels the Enchantress, so don't be confused and think he actually sees her. He is merely drawing from the enchantments that bind him to his castle. Nothing to complicated, at least in my twisted mind. It also should be said that Babette has more or less replaced Mrs. Potts as head maid and more about her and Lumiere's relationship will be explained. Oh, and if the way her and Lumiere talk confuse you, I am simply following the movie. It's always been funny to me that those two had accents, when they were all supposed to be French. Except Cogsworth and perhaps Mrs. Potts. I always assumed they were British. I'm kind of giving Cogsworth more of a friend personality in this story. He's still very submissive to Christian, but he was also one of Christian's caretakers and I would like to believe that he doesn't put up with his crap as much as he used to. Alright, enjoy. _

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**Chapter Five: Just In Time **Christian grabbed the reigns of his horse and just as she put her foot out to move he lifted into his seat and barely got his foot into the stirrups before she was running as fast as she could putting as much distance between himself and the orchard as was physically possible. "Oh, Merde!!!" He yelled to the empty fields they were running frantically through. "They're going to kill me…." He whispered to himself as he attempted to urge the horse even faster. They were almost an hour's ride out; he would never be able to talk himself out of this…… "What am I going to do?"

Scanning the landscape he thought to himself, if it were possible…… Could he actually manage to get back? What would he have to do?

He had a vague image of the Enchantress in his mind, though he had not seen her since he was a boy. She was standing next to that rock, and then suddenly she was behind the tree. He pondered on the thought of her just for a moment. Closing his eyes he could see her before him. Her sunlight hair cascading down her back, her vivid green eyes. Then further into his mind of what he could see he could envision the castle. He could see the stable. There it was with the crack in the left door and the dry grass surrounding, yellowed with sun and heat. He could see the servant's door off to the side of the grounds. It was a small entrance and Christian would have to duck down to go through it. He could see all this and exerting every force of energy he knew of, he willed himself to be there. To use the magic that he knew was forbidden him. It was necessary and he was certain that she would forgive him this trespass. He opened his eyes again and found he was galloping strait into the stable walls. He smiled to himself. Relief spread across his face. He had made it back and would only be a few minutes late. His horse gave a loud snort as she stumbled into the stable disoriented and hungry. He jumped from her back not bothering to even get her into the stall before he set off at a dead run strait at the walls of his castle. For the hundredth time in the last seventeen years he was relieved to see that his castle no longer sat on a moat upon a numbingly high cliff but on soft ground in the middle of vast fields and forest. Grabbing at the handle of the servants door he rushed through it, not bothering to even slam it shut behind him. He heard a few startled shouts and smiled at servants scrambling to get out of the way as they witnessed a tall blond person dashing through the corridor of their stay rooms before they were even able to realize that it was in fact their king. On he ran bursting through this door and that, trying to incorporate as many shortcuts and passages as he knew this castle possessed. Up a flight of stairs he finally reached the entrance to the north hall in which lay the conference room where the Prince and his advisors were undoubtedly waiting impatiently for their host. With the last bit of energy he had, Christian ran headlong to the side door. Slamming his whole body against it, nearly jamming his shoulder blade out of place. There were loud screams and for just a moment he witnessed a dozen servants, all looking pale and drawn. Lumiere stood off to the side and had been speaking adamantly to Cogsworth who looked ready to faint. Babette, the head maid, was very near Lumiere and had her hand on his shoulder, in the other she held Christian's crown he had had laid out for him that very morning. But all this was just for a moment for when they realized that it was their master who had just nearly broken the door down, pandemonium broke loose.

"Where have you been?!"

"We've been searching the whole castle for you."

"Really Master, you are too old to be running off like this."

"Hold still!!"

At that moment Christian found himself being lifted clear off the floor. As he attempted to keep his balance his clothes were being pulled off from every direction. First came his boots, then his breaches. His shirt was ripped off over his head so quickly that he called out in pain as he was sure his ears were now bleeding. In no time at all he was set back on the ground fully clothed in silk and fur all the way up his wrists and down to the top of his fine leather boots. He stood breathing heavily wondering what had just happened. Lumiere approached him with fervor and began to straiten his collar while Cogsworth looked around frantically for something to hold Christian's wild hair back. He felt a brush being run through it ruthlessly and knew it was probably Babette doing the job a little too well.

"I'm not that late!" he finally exclaimed to his Major-domo in frustration, feeling peculiarly like a twelve year old.

"Zat is to be decided by 'ow merciful ze Prince is after you finally decide to grace 'im wiz your presence." Lumiere said from his position in polishing Christian's boots.

"Is it that bad?" He finally asked, feeling his stomach return to where it had stubbornly rested before he had gotten up that morning.

"Well it certainly didn't help, Master" said Cogsworth fidgeting with Christian's hair after tying it up with a ribbon he took from his own wig. Then as neat as a pin the garnet crown was placed upon his head. Servants began to file out in hopes of finishing some work, now that (for their part) the crisis had been adverted.

The three heads of household stood in front of the King giving him a thorough look down. Babette placed her hands on his face and turned it to look at his profile. "Oh Master, you are so red and flushed. 'Old still." Then she took out a jar of powder from her apron and began to beat his face with it. Coughing and sputtering he reached out a hand and grabbed at her wrists to get her to stop. "Babette… Babette…. I don't think the Prince was expecting a ghost." He paused for a moment and then smiled down on her, she smiled back and then they both laughed. Without hesitation he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead. Lumiere stood by smiling, but Cogsworth shifted the weight in his legs every three seconds.

"Oh Cogsworth, settle down. It will be fine," said Lumiere putting a friendly arm around his colleague.

"Yes Cogsworth. Have faith in me! When have I ever steered you wrong before?" Christian's eyes twinkled in delight as Cogsworth' face turned sour and he glared at his master with annoyance that only he could get away with. "Ah well, on zat note, master. I zink I 'ave finally gotten ze wax out of my ears." Babette let out a sweet giggle, the grey on her temples showing vividly through a white bonnet.

"Indeed, but I do zink zat Cogsworth still 'as a wind-up key under 'is coat."

They all started laughing as Cogsworth's face went an even brighter shade of pink.

"Only one way to find out!" His master exclaimed. And before Cogsworth could protest Christian had his arms around Cogsworth's shoulders and was patting him painfully on the upper back trying to find "Ze wind-up key".

"Get off me! Get off! You over-sized lapdog!" He cried shoving Christian into Lumeire who caught him effortlessly and set him back onto his feet. Christian smiled broadly at his Major-Domo and held out his hand to him. Cogsworth took it, his good humor coming back. He was just getting too old to worry and fret like he did when he was younger. It wasn't good for his blood pressure.

"Need I remind you, your highness, the prince is still waiting and is not in a good humor after he realized that his host was not up and waiting for him as was agreed upon."

Christian put on a sly smile that was very uncharacteristic of his usual brooding self. Then lifting his wrists into the air and sticking his nose out, imitating the aristocratic air of many of his own court-members, his sniffed and flicked the lace off his wrists.

"Oh my dear Cornelius, do you doubt my abilities?" Cogsworth didn't answer and merely gave him a look that let Christian know he was not amused. "Well, in that case I think I will be going. And do not worry your pretty head about it." He said, ruffling Cogsworth' unsettled wig. "I will not fail you." The last words were spoken with sincerity and then Christian turned on his heals and headed in the direction of the council-room. But just as he was reaching the door he turned around and in a voice of the deepest gratitude he said "By the way, thank you all. Thank you for everything you do." Then turned and went to meet "the beast" on the other side.


	6. Prince Donovan

**Chapter Six: Prince Donovan**

_(This chapter is again, a little useless I suppose. I felt it was necessary to kind of show Christian's character. He is a complex person and I wanted to give him a even more of a personality with his face. I will do the best that I can to keep the chapters coming. Please review. It gives me hope)_

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Christian's general nature was fairly solemn. He wasn't prone to be frivolous or ridiculous. He had his own brand of humor, if you could call it that, and had made it a point since he was five to say exactly what he meant. Now till he was about twenty-one he had discovered that saying exactly what was on his mind was not proper but in time he had learned to hold his tongue regardless of whether what he was saying was true or not.

As he had become accustomed to the refinement of court and the strange behavior that was displayed there he realized that his style of nobility was not entirely welcome. People played strange games with their words and said odd things for no apparent reason. There was a great deal of work and time that went into the way the men treated each other and how they regarded people in general. It was the age of Fops and Dandies. Christian found the whole idea senseless but soon discovered that if he was going to attempt to make friends and influence people he would have to comply with the rules of current day society. When it had come to a time in his reign when he would need to persuade people to help him he found that the thicker he laid it on, the more people were apt to hear him. Many a time he would express to Belle that he felt he was trying to lessen his own intelligence for these people to be speaking the same language. She would merely laugh and tell him to be careful, his arrogance was coming through.

It was a farce all in itself. Christian would sometimes pretend, when he had to go into meetings like this one, that he was at a ball. A masked ball and he would have to get behind other's masks while keeping his own safely on his face.

Just as those doors swung open and the room went quiet; Christian's mask went up. He was now playing the part of the foppish nobleman and it left no room for the real Christian. This posed a problem for the longer he went, the more he had to delve into the world outside his own, the harder it was becoming to just retreat and be Christian again.

"Milord!" He exclaimed with exuberance. He bowed with a good deal of flourish and waving of hands. The Prince of Wales did the same but Christian could already see the look of disproval on the young man's face.

"So nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, your Highness" The words were said with sarcasm and Christian knew that it was just as serious as Cogsworth had made it out.

The Prince of Wales was even younger then Christian had supposed. He didn't look to be a day older then seventeen; primped and adorned with the finest clothing Christian had ever seen. But underneath the powder and lace Christian could smell fear. Something he had picked up in his youth it came in handy with reading people and made it far easier to generate situations that best suited the person he was talking to. The boy in front of him was frightened out of his mind. In all likeliness he had never done anything like this before and was terrified that he would muddle it all up. Christian put on an air of humility

"Ah my good sire, I cannot make an excuse for myself. But can only beg your forgiveness and charity, not on my behalf, but on the behalf of my people. We are in desperate need of your assistance."

"So I've been told, but I have yet to hear your argument."

"Oh but Prince Donovan, I do not argue, I enlighten…"

Christian smiled ruefully at the boy in front of him. Upon speaking, they had inched closer to each other and Christian was now looking at the top of the Prince' head from nearly a foot and a half higher. He could almost hear the boys mind working for a witty comment and knew that he was failing miserably. Christian didn't like to watch him squirm. It was like seeing a cat taunt a mouse. He jumped in and allowed the Prince to know that Christian had his utmost respect.

"Come, your highness. I will show you the distress we are under so that perhaps in your infinite wisdom and kindness you might best know how to succor this people."

No one need have said that what Christian was doing was dishonest. He already knew it from the depths of his soul, but it was a purpose for which he was willing to burn in hell for, if it meant that he could save even one of the starving children in his country.

First he took the prince to the empty treasury inside the castle. And by some great "luck" Christian's accountants and money collectors were there at that precise moment gathering the last of Christian's wealth to distribute to a few merchants on the coast of Calais to import some dry goods. This was to appeal to the prince's puffed up sense of aristocracy. A destitute King? That was pathetic… even for France.

Then Christian took the prince on a jaunty ride through the country. He led him to an impoverished field where over three dozen families were living in stick houses and tents. Many had children wearing nothing but a few rags and they were all filthy. Christian had really hit the nail on the head with this and he was well aware of it. The truth was that most nobility were ignorant in the ways of aiding their people because most could not stomach the sight of their own poor. Christian was no longer one of those people and had become very adept at spotting members of nobility who were similar in such matters. This boy was one of them. He had never seen children so thin that you could count their ribs. He had never seen women with six or seven small ones crowding around a pot of lentils and beans, all crying, all filthy, and all hungry.

This was a little one sided of course. There was a rich part of the village where some of the more stubborn part of the aristocracy lived, but Christian was not interested in gaining money from Wales for the fat Baron on his hill. It was for the orphaned young child, living on the streets because his parents had both died of starvation the week before.

And finally Christian took the Prince back to the castle he had arranged for tea to be served inside the nursery where his sons where to be playing innocently with their toys. Christian led the young prince into the room and they sat down for the first time that day. Christian watched the prince out of the corner of his eye as he admired his sons at play. They had grown so big and had been delighted to see their father inside the nursery.

"How old are they?" Prince Donovan had finally asked after two cups of tea in silence.

"Six." Christian answered promptly. "They are my joy. They are the real future of France."

Donovan was silent again and Christian could not read him in the slightest.

"I imagine your father has the same feelings for you."

The Prince made an indistinct noise, somewhere between a grunt and a whistle.

"My Father has high hopes for me, and I have no doubt that I will fail miserably at those as well."

Christian leaned over the small table to get a better look at the Prince' face. "Do you honestly think so?"

The Prince shrugged and went back to watching the boys play.

Christian finally continued. "When I look to my sons, I do not see a failure. Nor a hope of some dream I had cooked up. I doubt any father really sees that when they look at their son. I see a future. A future for my people. I see a Utopia. If the sons are to fail, we must first look to the fathers for guidance and hope, long before we can look to ourselves, or our people for such sentiments. I see my sons as Emperors and Kings, but what kind of man could I be if I left them with a country torn apart by famine and drought? Would it be their failure? I say nay; it would be mine. And so I must implore a noble prince, look to my sons, Prince Donovan. Can you see yourself? As I see you in them?"

Christian concluded by pouring himself another cup of tea. They did not speak again and after almost twenty minutes of the only sounds being the twins and their laughter Christian had their nanny come to take them to bed for their afternoon nap. Donovan and Christian both stood and Christian gestured him out the door. They walked in silence as servants bustled around preparing dinner and attending to their duties.

"Will you be joining us for dinner tonight, your highness?" Christian asked. "The servants have been preparing an excellent banquet in your honor. It's not up to the normal French standards, but I will say that it shall be rather pleasant."

"Indeed yes. Will your family be present, your Grace?"

"Yes, my wife as well as my daughter Princess Sophia-Belle have both been very eager to meet you."

"I'm glad."

They had finally reached Donovan's stay rooms and Christian had bowed to him in an indication to leave but the boy stopped him.

"You have my support, Christian. Every bit of it."

The King stopped and turned to Donovan looking at him solemnly. It was a moment before they said anything as he searched the young prince' face.

"Thank you, your highness. On behalf of everything I hold dear. Thank you."

Donovan leaned against the door jam and kicked at the carpet a little. Every trace of the haughty prince Christian had encountered this morning was gone. He was just a boy, trying to do the right thing and Christian honored that.

"Name what you want. It's yours."

Once Cogsworth and Lumiere had arrived and Donovan's own advisors were present the settlement was made with chests of gold, ships of food, and over two hundred strong farmers on their way to help till the land in an attempt to yield some growth out of it. And for the first time in weeks Christian finally felt like he could take a rest, just for a moment to try and regain some lost time.


	7. Conversations in Private Rooms

**Chapter Seven: Conversations in Private Rooms**

_(This chapter I am really rather attached to. I love to think that there really is life after Happily ever after and this really does give insight into that. Christian and Belle have marital problems just like everyone else but what I love about this is the way Christian feels about it. He's torn up and it really leaves way for a good resolve. So this chapter is again to give insight into Christian's character, but on an even more personal note then before.)**  
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As soon as the door was closed Christian began to walk down the corridor to his own room. Several roles of parchment clutched in his hands. He could hear the patter of his advisor's following close behind and once he was out of sight of the rooms he had just left he made a small gesture with his fingers at his side and soon Cogsworth and Lumiere had fallen into step on either side of him. As he finally reached the master bedroom he allowed Lumiere to get ahead of him and open his door. He stepped through and almost immediately began to loosen his clothing. He pulled the crown off his head he tossed it at Cogsworth, who after a few moments of fumbling caught it and delicately placed it on the desk in the corner. With a huge sigh Christian flopped into a soft armchair and draped one leg over the arm, resting his head on his fist as he closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of his dearest friends shuffling around his room, closing doors and pulling out Christian's evening-wear that he would don for the banquet tonight.

"If I never have to do that again, it will be too soon." He finally said with more then a little humor in his voice.

Both men turned to him and smiled. "Oh Master, you did it!" Lumiere exclaimed.

"Indeed, I cannot express our gratitude to you, your highness. Two hundred farmers! I can hardly believe it. Whatever you said to that boy, it surely did the trick…."

Cogsworth paused for a moment, "I think you've saved us all, master."

Christian furrowed his brow and regarded these men with doubt. A small smile played at the corners of his mouth but it wasn't a happy one. He wasn't pleased with himself at all. He looked down at the parchments still clutched in his hands, and then getting to his feet he passed them to his Major-Domo.

"Perhaps" he finally replied and walked over to the vanity. He made as if to look for something but decided against it and then he caught his own reflection in the mirror. It was drawn and pale looking. He could see all the lines around his mouth and eyes and knew that he couldn't pretend he was a young man anymore. Tomorrow he would be thirty-eight and he felt as if every year that had passed was a stone slab, stacking them on top of his chest, crushing him with the weight of their bitter disappointments and lost dreams. Both the men behind him were quiet. They had spent the whole of Christian's life by his side and knew that silence and patience was the key to helping him through the demons in his own head.

"Am I doing the right thing?" he asked. This question took no one by surprise, he had mused on the thought hundreds of times before.

"Christian?"

"Yes, Cogsworth?"

"I do wish that you would not doubt yourself as you do."

"I cannot help it. I think…. I think I'm losing my family because of the decisions I'm making."

Both men took a step towards their master. Lumiere being the bolder of the two reached his side and placed a comforting hand on the younger man's arm. But it was Cogsworth who spoke first.

"Christian, I have known you since the day you were born and watched as Cordelia kissed your face for the first time. I have watched three members of your family rule, including yourself and I will live yet to see another one assume the throne. And I say right now that I would not have stayed with you this long, through all the trials and tribulation if I did not think you were the greatest king that has ever lived."

Christian felt his heart sink even further into his stomach. "Why? Why do you think that? Is it because I'm kind to my servants? Because I love my people. What do all these things matter if I cannot keep my family together? In the end if I became the greatest king in the history of the universe it would not make the slightest difference because all I will ever remember is how my family hated me so." He leaned himself on the vanity and tired to block it all out.

"She asked about you today."

Christian felt his insides lurch forward. "Belle?" he exclaimed before he could stop himself. Then realizing he had asked that far too enthusiastically he ducked his head again and with forced nonchalance said "What… What did she ask?"

Lumeire gave him a thoughtful look. "She asked why you were late for your meeting 'zis morning."

"And what did you tell her?" he asked without looking.

"I told 'er what I knew. Nozzing"

"You know Christian that is an awfully good question. Why were you late this morning?"

Cogsworth was now standing next to Lumiere and both seemed to see right through him. He didn't like it and turned his back on them to walk over beside one of the bookshelves lining the walls.

"I was… I was thinking." He finally replied.

"Thinking? Thinking made you late?"

"Yes. Thinking made me late. And it would seem that everyone here should do a little less of it because it doesn't seem to bring about any good."

"What is zat supposed to mean?"

"Did the Queen ask anything else?" he asked shortly, trying to divert the subject from himself.

Both men shook their heads. "She didn't 'ave to."

"But perhaps if you spoke to her about it--"

"I can't! Can't you see that I can't?"

"No actually. I cannot. What is wrong, Christian?"

"You don't understand! You don't have to live with yourselves like I do."

Lumiere felt sympathy flood his heart for his master. It was the same as it had always been but the older they all got, the more he loved this man.

"It does not 'ave to be zis way. You can go back to ze way zings were."

Christian threw up his arms in the air and began to pace his room in frustration. "Why is this even a question? You know as well as I do that hundreds of years before me nobility have not slept with their wives and no one thinks the less of them. They have perfectly normal marriages. Why is mine any different? And why do you ask such questions about it?"

"Because we can see how unhappy you are!"

"Do you honestly believe that I do not love her anymore?"

Both stopped speaking and looked at him gravely.

"Mon Dieu! You really think that?"

Christian could hear his voice mount in pitch and he felt like his throat was closing up. He sat heavily on his bed and tried to push them out of his head, he wanted to cut out their words but it was too painful, there was too much.

"Your highness, we know that you love her. We were there, remember?" Cogsworth's own voice sounded shrill and choked and Christian felt something of relief at his words.

"Yes, I remember. But even though it's been seventeen years I'm never going to be allowed to forget, am I?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's why Sophia hates me isn't it? She doesn't understand why, but she can see that I'm lying to her."

"Your daughter does not 'ate you. And you are not lieing to 'er. You are just not telling 'er anyzing."

"Something of how I'm living my life, isn't it? I just don't tell everyone everything and I get what I need. It makes me so weary."

"Master--"

"What would you do?"

Lumeire put his hands up. "Oh zut! Do not ask me. I 'ave a daughter of my own. I 'ave no answers."

"Yes, but your daughter does not behave the way mine does."

"And my daughter is not a princess. She does not bare ze same burden zat yours does."

"Why does that matter?"

"It mattered with you." Cogsworth finally placed a hand on Christian's shoulder and squeezed it just enough for it to register as a squeeze. Christian closed his eyes and rubbed his face. Why did he feel so tired? He stood up and began to pace the room once again. "Then what would you suggest? You're supposed to be my advisor's. The greatest advisor's in the land! What am I supposed to do to make this better?"

Cogsworth cocked his head to the side and gazed at Christian with curiosity. The whole thing seemed so absurd to him, but then he had never gotten the chance to be a father. When his late wife had died in childbirth he had never felt like he could remarry, his pull towards his first love was far too strong and so he was having a great deal of trouble sympathizing with his master.

"What would you suggest that we suggest your highness?"

"Oh please don't play word games with me Cogsworth; I don't think I can stand it."

Cogsworth sighed, realizing that this conversation was never going to end happily. Christian would come out of his melancholy only when he was ready to and until then, he would have to fight his battles. But on the other hand Cogsworth knew that he would stand by him come hell or high water.

"Christian, my suggestion to you would be to take a good look at you."

His master snorted in disgust. It was one of those no win answers that he could never find enough mind power to understand.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked vehemently. Lumiere jumped to his aid

"Master, if you stopped and zought about it you would know zat to find ze answers you are looking for you must first look to yourself. You see zat mirror. Gaze into it. If you look long enough you will find zat Sophia is right zere looking back at you."

Lumiere paused knowing that Christian was only becoming more and more frustrated with this. " 'Tian, we know zat you love your daughter. We know zat you have given up everyzing because you love your daughter so much. But you must stop trying to beat ze 'ell out of ze ghosts of your past. It doesn't matter anymore. It's over and you are free. Please, we beg of you, allow yourself to be free. Only zen will you find ze answers to what you 'ave been searching for."

Christian could feel the bile rising in his throat. He felt like kicking himself and every word that Lumiere spoke was like a four inch needle being driven into his stomach. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to storm and rage and throw as many things as he could get his hands on. But that wouldn't drive the pain away. It would still be there when the storm was over and he would still be standing there, surrounded by hundreds of people and more alone then he had ever felt in his whole life.

"Just go." He finally whispered.

"Master--"

"Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you anymore."

Cogsworth and Lumiere began walking to the door feeling just about as hopeless as there master did. None able to bridge the gap that Christian had made between himself and the rest of his world. Trying to put it at a distance he was now placing the people that loved him most as far away as he could. Held in his fear of losing everything.

He finally spoke as they opened the door.

"I want my sons in bed before dinner begins and tell my daughter that she is to be on her best behavior tonight. I will not have a repeat of last night. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sire."

"And ze queen?"

"Tell her…Tell her I…" Christian sighed at his own weakness and then hung his head.

"Tell her that I will meet her in the great hall at seven o'clock."

It was an uncomfortable moment as no one spoke. They were waiting for Christian to dismiss them, just in case he had anything more to say. But he seemed to be unable to make the words come out.

"Christian…."

He made no move to indicate he had heard him but Cogsworth plowed on anyway.

"Christian, you cannot blame yourself forever."

"No, just until the day I die. Then maybe I won't have to see her hurt again."

And without another word, only the look of self-loathing painted across his handsome features, he closed the door softly as they began to walk down the corridor.


	8. The Dinner Table

_Authors Note: This chapter could really be said to be the beginning of the actual story I'm trying to write. This is Christian and his family in what they are in THIS particular day and time. If it seems a little odd to you I have taken liberties on the development of the characters. Surely after seventeen years and three children you would not expect the title characters to be exactly the same. They have taken on new roles and new ideals so please keep your mind open while reading this. I do believe you'll like how the story goes this way. I want everyone to pay close attention to Sophia. Don't give her or me too much flack. If everyone would care to remember we were all rather stupid when we were sixteen and she is obviously no exception as she is the daughter of Christian who was a hairy animal when he had been her age._

_**NEW AUTHORS NOTES (January 23, 2010): Okay, revisions on this were pretty dramatic. You might still find grammar errors and I'm sure to your disappointment Sophia is still a heinous brat. I changed most of the dialogue between Sophia and Prince Donovan because I wanted to make Sophia sound attention getting and not crazy, which was kinda how she sounded before. Some of the descriptive paragraphs are different too. **_

**Chapter Eight: The Dinner Table**

The evening came far too soon for Christian. He was dressed in record time and strode down the hall purposefully. Passing a servant here and there he paid them no heed, keeping his head erect he gazed ahead of him and mouthed soundlessly. It was routine for him to practice any kind of response that he might have to give at any kind of question or encounter. He didn't like being taken by surprise and it was comfort to hear the words in his head. They always sounded so polished and refined; taking the focus off any kind of nerves he could have and placing them on his regal eloquence and poise.

And before he even had time to think about it, not even realizing that he had already arrived, he began to descend down the spiral staircase to the grand entrance hall. In a glance that lasted only a moment he caught sight of her. It wasn't quite fifteen minutes to seven and so she was chattering adamantly with her ladies. The servants had gone all out in decorating her and even Christian could see the minor details that went into his Queen's appearance. She was stunning, absolutely shining with such refinement that Christian felt his breath catch in his throat.

She was wearing the same color of green as he was, their costumes having been tailored at the same time; he entertained the thought that at one point the threads had all melded together and were rolled up in the same bolt of fabric. Bedecked in golden jewelry, with golden ribbons weaving in and out of her hair sitting elegantly on her head. He couldn't see it from this distance but up close, she had more then a few graying hairs at her temples that she barely attempted to hide. He smiled at her, while she was not aware that he was there. He basked in her tinkling laughter as she bobbed about the hall speaking with this servant and that, awaiting his arrival.

And then quite as suddenly, she glanced up in his direction and caught him staring at her from his spot, leaning over the banister. She quickly lost the light amusement in her attitude and donned a much more majestic pose as the smile slipped considerably from her face. She bowed to him as he began to descend the stairs once more, every step pushing his own joy at seeing her further down into the pit of his stomach. He extended his arm to her and she took it without a word as they took their places in the line. Several members of nobility and members of the government were standing ahead of the king and queen as they waited for their entrance into the dining hall. He leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"You are very beautiful tonight."

He could see the slight pink rise up into her cheekbones as she blinked her eyes. Without looking at him or even raising her head, she replied

"Thank you. Has your day gone well?"

He grimaced and then nodded, knowing she had noticed. "Yes, everything has been fine."

"I was told you convinced the Prince of Wales to aid our country…"

"Yes, he has been most generous and is very eager to meet you."

"Oh? Well then I do hope he won't be disappointed"

None of this was said with any ire. Her soft voice was sweet and clear as it always has been.

"If he gets even one glimpse of you I am sure he will live out of the rest of his days in pure bliss."

He said this matter-of-factly, but a small smile attempted to tweak the corners of his mouth. He could see her blush even more. The time seemed to tick on. There was little conversation going on around them to drown out the awkwardness. Christian sighed impatiently wondering why they couldn't just enter whenever. This whole ceremony of waiting for the direct hour entrance was one of the more tedious duties in his life he would love nothing more then to dismiss. Belle sighed directly after him; it took a great deal of resistance to keep from looking down on her. 'Stay focused' he thought to himself. 'You have to concentrate'. Staring determinedly at a knot in the door he said

"And how was _your_ day today?"

It was a long moment before she spoke and still he did not look at her. He felt her shift uncomfortably next to him and then finally give a strained

"It was… It was well."

He could tell she was about to burst with something that she had been holding herself from shouting into his face and for that he was grateful at the restraint she possessed that he himself had never developed.

"Did something unusual happen today."

"Hmmmm….."

She did not speak and he knew why. "Well out with it. I know you are only waiting for me to ask. What has happened?"

He could tell she was scowling by the way she shifted her arm so that it barely touched his.

"We have a problem, Your Majesty."

"Oh, I can only guess what you might mean…"

Her irritation was evident but he was not in the mood to do any more then try and keep this whole evening together and that in and of itself was a feat.

"I am speaking of the quarrel we had last night with our only daughter."

"Ahhhh… I see. Has there been some new development then?"

"Well, I went to her chambers today in attempts to speak with her in a civil manor."

"And?"

"And she threw her chamber pot at me."

He closed his eyes in disgust and allowed the slightest trace of remorse to flit across his face. "Oh, I do hope it was empty."

"Thankfully, yes."

He sighed heavily and began to look around at everyone but down at her. "I do not know what to tell you."

"I don't know what I would want you to say."

He did not allow himself even a pause. "I could say that I am truly sorry"

And then he did it. He didn't even think he was going to do it but he looked down at her and found her beautiful brown eyes looking back up at him. He almost gasped at how exquisite she looked. Surely she could have given Aphrodite a lesson or two. But even underneath all that he could see the pain in her eyes. The small lines around her mouth spoke very plainly that she wasn't happy at all.

"Oh Christian" She whispered. "What are we going to do?"

He strained for a good answer but found none waiting for him. "I do not know, my dear. I….. I know that we must do something and I'm trying… I really am trying--"

"I know that you are trying" she cut him off.

She hated to see him squirm like this. It was not his fault and she knew that he was only doing his best. But the emptiness that they shared together made her empathy for him seemed far away and a bit useless.

He sighed once again as if to try to give her a more complete answer on exactly what he was doing that warranted "trying" but at that moment the doors swung open. The music that had been playing serenely inside ceased and the announcements began. The line was relatively short but when they reached the King and Queen, every soul in the room took to their feet. He looked down the long table at all the faces that were gazing raptly back at him and none of them mattered because the only face he wanted to look at was the one right next to him. He wished he had not taken the moment to look at her. Not when she had her guard down like that. It made him want her more. But the moment had passed and in its place they had donned the masks once more. His was one of strength and dignity, hers of radiant beauty and refinement as a smile plastered itself across her lips leaving no trace of the pain and bitterness she felt. Not a soul would know of the conversation shared between them in the entrance hall. Not a person knew exactly what was truly happening to the people they gave so much respect.

They were announced and the whole of the room bowed to their leaders. Christian and Belle returned it. As he raised himself up again he felt her hand clench tightly on his arm, though she gave a short nod and a wave to those close to her and smiled serenely at the guests of honor.

They were seated. Himself and his wife at the head of the table. Next to him on his left side was Prince Donovan and next to her on her right side was his one and only daughter Princess Sophia-Belle. She sat directly across from the Prince of Wales and Christian took fair note that he was giving her more then a little attention.

For just a moment she put her head down and Christian got a good look at his daughter for the first time that day. She too was wearing green. Her hair was allowed to flow down partially and golden ribbons were woven into the top of her head giving her a very fairy-esk look. When she was born, as well as growing up, she seemed to look a little bit like both her parents but as she grew older, especially in the last six years when Christian wasn't watching she became a duplicate of her mother. Christian could watch the two of them for hours noticing the similarities as well as the differences. Not that there were very many but if Christian was taking great pains to study his daughters appearance he could see that there was something slightly off about her features. As if someone had tried to remake Belle and had made definite mistakes. Her nose was slightly longer then her mothers, her lips just a little fuller (though that could partially be to the fact that Belle was getting older and Christian could not recall if she had fuller lips when she was younger.). Her hair was the same chestnut brown and her eyes the color of chocolate but it had come as quite a shock when Christian had realized that Sophia was now almost four inches taller then her mother.

At that precise moment Sophia was not speaking and Christian thought it all for the best. If she did not learn to keep her tongue in check he feared she would someday come to a situation that she would not be able to talk herself out of.

Dinner seemed to go smoothly, that is to say through the first three courses of the meal no one spoke very often. It wasn't until right before dessert that things began to spiral downward.

"Your highness, how were your lessons today?"

Donovan had been trying to engage Sophia in conversation for the whole evening. The girl had barely spoken three words to him and though Christian thought this a step up from what she could be saying, it was starting to look a tad obvious that Sophia was snubbing the crowned Prince of Wales.

"Very well." She replied shortly without looking in his general direction. She made as if to ignore him further but the Prince was clearly becoming suspicious of her disdain for his presence at her table. Christian could not afford for his daughter to cause this hot-headed puppy to go storming back to his father leaving France to fend for itself. This did not mean he wanted her help in the slightest. He would not force her to flirt with anyone, but on the other side he would also not allow her to be rude on account of a quarrel that had nothing to do with the prince.

"Princess Sophia has been perfecting her Latin as of late. She has become quite good at it" Christian interjected quickly. Sophia's head popped up in surprise at her father's interference and she looked to him with irritation.

"Ah! That _is_ good news. Latin is not used nearly enough these days."

"And why would it, exactly? For what purpose does it serve to anyone of consequence?" Sophia's voice was icy and challenging.

The prince seemed to have come to something of a roadblock in these questions. Surely the answer was obvious to anyone intelligent.

"My lady, it is the language of scholars. Most of the Christian religion in the world uses Latin to convey messages of divinity."

And before anyone could stop her "Like I said, how does this serve anyone of consequence?"

Donovan sputtered for a moment grasping for control over the conversation. It would seem to Christian that this poor fool was still trying to seek the attentions of his beautiful daughter and Christian feared that he would not be deterred by whimsical notions that scholars and papacy mattered very little to this Princess' bohemian ideals. Again Christian came to this young mans rescue.

"Do you speak Latin, Prince Donovan?"

Looking around in a bit of a daze, his eyes finally alighted on Christian and nodded.

"Yes, very well in fact."

He paused again and then shifted his attention back to the Princess. His eyes became a little softer as he looked at her. She was stirring her food with greater force then necessary and was looking at her father in a most alarming manner. And yet Prince Donovan still didn't seem to interpret her looks correctly. He gazed at her intently; as if he had never seen a creature so elegant in his life. Christian knew that look, or at least the feeling behind that look. It's how he felt every time he looked at Belle. Still, it was the difference between sunshine and a storm cloud. They both held their own beauty, but one of them will still dump its wrath upon you if you continue to test your luck. And of course, Donovan did.

"Tell me….er…. Your highness, have you…er… have you ever visited Wales?"

Sophia threw back her head almost obscenely and let out a hearty laugh that did not suit her at all. The table went a little silent as people noticed the Princess laughing her head off at a most bewildered prince sitting across from her.

"Me? Go to Wales? HA! I've never heard of anything more absurd in my life!"

Prince Donovan went a little pink. He clearly could not see the laughter in his question and was beginning to think she was mocking him.

"And why is that, Milady?"

Sophia's face lost a bit of its charm as she leaned in closer to him

"How could I go to Wales when I cannot leave _my prison_?"

The statement was made so dramatically that no one spoke for fear of being caught in an inside joke that they did not know the punch-line to. The prince seemed to gain a sense of suspicion on the other hand.

"Your Prison, My lady? Surely you are not held against your will in any place."

"So you would assume." Sophia stopped for a moment and Christian had a suspicion that she was sizing up Donovan's intelligence. He would have liked to kick himself for giving his daughter as much education as he had. She was too smart for her own good; and far to calculating.

Then all of the sudden she changed tactics, shifted in her seat and leaned forward with just a touch of the provocative. Apparently she found Donovan stupider then even Christian did because her entire attitude went from ice queen to warm and more then a little coquettish.

She smiled brightly at him and then leaned over to speak to him pretending she had no idea that everyone in hearing distances was paying attention to every word she was saying.

"Prince Donovan. Did you know that this castle has ghost story behind it."

Donovan blinked ignorantly at the sudden change of moods and then shook his head. "No I was not aware of any such story. Are there ghosts about?"

Sophia gave a fake laugh and then lowered her voice dramatically.

"No, not a ghost to be exact. More like a monster. An evil monster used to live here, they say. And because he was so ugly and so hated he forced beautiful maidens to live with him. He would lock them up and never let them see the sunshine until they died sad lonely deaths."

Donovan's attention was so enraptured by Sophia's story that he refused to blink despite the ridiculousness of what she was saying.

"Are the stories true?" He asked, his voice mimicking Sophia's.

Her smile slipped from her face and she narrowed her eyes intensely. "Take a look around you. You'll see that I am one of those prisoners."

Christian could feel his head spinning. What could he do to silence her without anyone noticing? For one wild moment he considered hurling wine into Prince Donovan's face and while he was distracted, drag Sophia out of the dining hall. But of course, he would need a rather large amount of wine to deter the whole hall from his foolish daughter's claims on incarceration in her own home. Though they all sat stunned, no one looked more so then the Prince.

"I'm sure I'm misunderstanding you, Princess. You must be teasing me. How can you be a prisoner and still be sitting here, having dinner with me."

This was of course inaccurate. She wasn't here for the Prince's benefit. She was here on her father's orders, but Donovan seemed to be so enraptured with her that no one else in the room really mattered. And that included Christian and Belle.

There was a long silence as Sophia stared into the Prince's face. She looked almost deranged as her mouth tightened and released while she tried to decide what hand to play in her little game. Finally she spoke again.

"Monsters can be very tricky that way, your highness. You see, if your royal pampered arse is cushioned too long by silk while you're being fed grapes it's very easy to miss even obvious things like damsels in distress."

This was meant to be a very well placed gibe at not only Donovan, but at her own parents. A continuous battle between King and Princess was that while neither could see eye to eye on anything, Sophia had decided it her personal mission to eradicate all royalty and their lifestyles that she had deemed wicked. Her only weapons were of course her razor sharp tongue, but in a court where everyone loved a good intrigue it was a very powerful tool indeed.

Donovan was now looking seriously at the princess and for a moment Christian misinterpreted his looks to be that of fury at Sophia's comment that inappropriately referred to his "pampered arse". Then he spoke again to Sophia and he seemed to have taken this damsel in distress to heart.

"What kind of monster is it?"

"A cowardly beast who finds fortune in keeping me here for the rest of my life until I rot into something loathsome just like him, so that it doesn't have to be alone."

It surly did sound terrible and vaguely familiar and for a moment Christian saw stars. He had a feeling that perhaps a little bit of that monster was just about to show itself for Sophia's personal benefit. He could feel himself shaking; just enough to make it difficult to gulp down his wine. Right at the moment when he could feel his own lip curling of it's own accord, ready to shout out and lose his temper completely, he felt her hand. He had almost forgotten that Belle was sitting right next to him. She had placed her hand under the table and had grasped his knee and then reaching a little further as though she was attempting to wrap her hand around his inner thigh. He looked down at her in surprise to see her glaring at Sophia in a repressed fury that only rivaled his own feelings. Then whispering out of the corner of her mouth so that only he could hear, she said.

"Stay calm. She doesn't know. She doesn't know anything about it. She's only trying to scare everyone. Stay calm, Christian."

And suddenly he found relief. For one moment he had believed his daughter had discovered something he had hidden from her, her whole life. But if Belle said that it was farce then surely, he could remain calm.

As if God himself had decided to intervene on Christian's behave a miracle occurred. Apparently Donovan either believed every word Sophia had just said and was reacting accordingly, or he found this to be a very amusing game and was now playing along. So just as Christian was thinking that he had lost everything he had gained from this young boy an amused expression shone across Donovan's young face.

"Well, if it's a beast that holds you, fair princess. I will slay it. For I have excellent training in hunting of every kind. And then when I am finished, you may visit me in Wales."

A silence that was thicker then mud reigned. Christian looked at the prince for a moment trying to discern whether this boy was serious in the claim he had just made and then looked at his daughter to see an expression of absolute shock on her face. Clearly she had not expected this prince to be so thick that he would actually believe she was talking about a tangible animal. Christian couldn't help it; he burst into laughter far merrier then what his daughter had done. He laughed so hard his chair began to shake and for some reason more people found it amusing that Christian was laughing then anything else and they began to laugh at him laughing. It wasn't long before the whole room was attempting to suppress their amusement. Finally after several minutes he turned to Donovan and clapped him on the shoulder.

"She is amusing no? I do say if my daughter was not the Princess I would hire her as my next court jester!"

The whole room roared with laughter once again and Christian grasped under the table till he found Belle's hand. He clenched it so hard that he was sure he had broken her fingers but he dared not look to her. He knew she was angry. He could feel it in her racing pulse as he tightened his hold on her. In the back of his mind Christian knew that what Sophia was doing was purely for attention and mocking her opening would only serve to push her further away. And in the end the person who would be most affected by it was Belle. He wondered how much longer she was going to be able to take this ongoing war between Sophia and her parents. In any case he knew he had inadvertently hurt her, by purposefully hurting their daughter. Whether she deserved it or not.

The only good thing that occurred following this was that the Prince was now appeased. Convinced that this lovely Princess was simply a very convincing jokester, he smiled at her in what he obviously thought a winning fashion. Christian eager to rid himself of every single person in the room stood to his feet. Faking a few more chuckles he lifted his glass and said loud enough for the whole hall to hear.

"And in light of this wonderful merriment I would like to end the evening with a toast to our guest Prince Donovan. May we always be grateful for his generosity and kindness to France. Long live Prince Donovan and long live the King!"

Most everyone got to their feet and chanted back the tribute. Christian remained standing as people filed out the door. The Prince of Wales made his farewells to Christian for he would be leaving that night in hopes of reaching the coast at Calais before morning. Kissing both the Queen and the Princess' hands and bowing to Christian in a very humble and agreeable manner Christian clapped a hand around the boys shoulder and gave him the first genuine smile he had mustered all night. He _would_ miss this boy and knew that he was benefiting greatly from him. Finally when all the guests and servants had left except the few that were clearing the table and Sophia, Belle, and himself were the only ones (with the exception of Lumiere and Cogsworth standing outside the door waiting for Christian's instructions) he sank into his chair with a soft thud and buried his face in his hands, wishing sorely that he had a large tankard of ale handy, because drowning out this night would be the first steps he could take to making it and himself disappear.


	9. The Forgotten Family

_Authors Note: I hope you can have as much feeling for this chapter as I did. I really wanted to portray Belle as a mother, more then as a wife and a queen (That will come later). I also really wanted everyone to see the estrangement between Sophia and her parents. I think most of us can relate to both Christian (being a father who just can't figure things out) and as Sophia, a reckless sixteen year old who feels like the whole world is out to get her. Don't begrudge Christian's poor behavior with his daughter either. He already feels bad enough about it as it is and it was necessary for the continuation of the story, believe you me. When Christian was free of the spell I always liked to believe he had kept a few of the characteristics that came with being an animal. So in times of great emotion like this one, a few would come out. That is basically the monster inside him he keeps mentioning. Hope it doesn't confuse you too much. _

_**NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE (January 23, 2010): I have totally redone most of the dialogue and the structure of this chapter. It's muuuuuuuuuuch better in my opinion. I wanted this to be an argument between Sophia and her father and I feel like if I haven't turned Sophia into a good little girl at least I've made her a little more intelligent. I actually like her allot better now. She's a teenager, she doesn't really need a good reason to act horribly but in her case she really is angry at her father for his behavior towards her family and she's angry at her mother for letting him.**_

**Chapter 9: The Forgotten Family**

"Well that was pleasant" Sophia spoke with as much contempt a girl of her size and vocal range could create.

Christian did not speak. He didn't trust himself to dissolve into whichever emotion presented itself first. He felt drained and his sensitivity to his increasing age was sinking over him once more. What time was it? Surely it was far later then what that clock was trying to convince him of. He longed to escape this room and the life he had created for himself. He wished for just one fleeting moment that he could leave this place and everyone in it. He wished with a longing so strong that it surprised him. Could he actually forget Belle and his children? He wished he _could_ forget his country and his past and his impending future that was coming whether he liked it or not. He wished more then anyone he could finally find somewhere were he felt like he belonged again. The way he had felt when he was a young man, wrapped up in the arms of a young woman who loved him more then life itself….

But then the moment was gone and he felt a rush of guilt and disgust at his own weaknesses and the crude betrayal he was wishing upon his family. The silence was momentary and then Belle spoke to her daughter with a great deal of sternness in her voice.

"I'm sure your own behavior reflected very little on the pleasantness of the evening."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Sophia retorted.

Belle shook her head in frustration. "What were you thinking? Telling such ridiculous tales at the dinner table, no less."

Sophia glared at her mother. "At least I said something! You just sat there like a useless piece of the décor!"

The queen stiffened in her chair causing Christian to finally open his eyes and survey the oncoming battle before him. He was finding that as he got older that his attention span was dwindling a bit. And since this very same fight had broken out only yesterday he was becoming increasingly aware of his nonchalance on the matter altogether.

"You are so hypocritical! You both sit there in your arrogance and allow the whole starving country to fawn over you. Smiling and waving as the simple peasants are crushed beneath your tyranny!"

Sophia's voice was mounting in pitch. Christian's eye brows were knitting closer together with every word as he watched his daughter work herself into a tizzy. He could see that Belle was beyond agitated and it was bordering on amusing if the situation weren't so serious to her. Christian had become accustomed to being the agitated one. He was the one who flew off the handle at a moments notice. He was the one who allowed his emotions to get the better of him. So on the rare times when Belle was irrational and upset it always made him feel so much closer to her. He could see that even though they were very seldom moments, they were, at least a little bit, alike.

"Sophia, however this disturbing habit of yours got started it's time for you to grow up. I refuse to believe that throwing temper tantrums should warrant praise of any kind. No matter how much you think of yourself"

Christian closed his eyes painfully. He could see that his wife had just said the equivalent of poking a sleeping dragon in the eye.

"Who are you to tell me what I am and am not like!!!?" Sophia shouted jumping to her feet.

"I am your mother!" Belle shouted back. "Or have you forgotten already?" Except that it really didn't matter what Belle was because she had now just walked into Sophia's favorite accusation.

"Oh of course!! How could I have forgotten? Let me bow down and kiss your royal feet, your highness."

Christian wasn't sure what instincts lay within him. He wasn't the same as other men. So when his mind was no longer in control he wondered if his body was far more fearsome then a normal mans aught to be. At this moment his instincts were in direct conflict. He supposed that something animalistic, something very anti-human was in a waging battle with the natural man that must be a part of him. The animal that would sacrifice its life to save its child, versus the man who would safeguard his women to the bitter end. He stood up quickly and forced his knees hard into the table causing it to quake over the din of their shouts.

"Sophia Christiana Athena Belle, I will not have you speaking to your mother that way!"

She seemed to be stunned for a moment. As if he had throw something at her instead of shouted. He was trying to keep the growl out of his voice. No one could know the pains he was taking to keep himself from allowing whatever was inside of him to slip through. He would have died first then revealed to his daughter the secrets this castle held. He loved her far too much for that. But it wasn't as if she wasn't making every word he spoke difficult. She was better then how she was acting, and he knew this for a fact.

"And what way is that?" she seethed belligerently.

"You know what way I'm talking about, Sophia. Don't act stupid!"

He knew that Belle would be angry with him for even implying that their daughter was at all 'stupid' but it was the shock factor he was after and so he let the insult sit in the air for a moment. Sophia was stunned for a fraction of a second then shot daggers at her father.

"I am NOT stupid! You have _no_ right to call me that!"

She shouted back, nearly hopping up and down. He shook his head as if she were an ignorant child. He wasn't entirely sure why he was taking this tactic but his exhaustion wasn't letting him think clearly. He said opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to him in reply.

"I am your father! Who else _has _rights?"

Sophia snorted with disgust. "You two are unbelievable! Every day it's the same thing! _'I'm your father!' 'I'm your mother!'_ As if that's supposed to mean something to me."

Christian wondered for just the slightest moment why he was still arguing with her. It was like some bizarre play they all knew the lines to by heart. Regardless he pushed the thought away and surged on, his frustration impairing his judgments.

" It would mean something to you if I had done what I should have done and taught you some respect! Instead all I have to show is a _spoiled, selfish little girl_!"

Sophia seemed to haze over the words her father had used to assess her character. She had heard them all before and had not once allowed them to affect her. In her mind they were simple rhetoric. She couldn't possibly be spoiled.

"And when would that have been, _father?_ During all those years you were away?"

She spat back sarcastically. He opened his mouth to retort but she was not even close to finishing.

"And that is the question isn't it? If you weren't here being such a _'wonderful'_ father to me what were you doing? I see you once or twice every six months and then you're gone again. You've done nothing for your people except convince even _more_ ignorant people then yourself to give you money. Don't think I haven't noticed_._ You're a worthless human being who has about as much skill at living your own life as you do trying to control mine!"

"Sophia!" Belle finally was able to interject at least a few syllables before their daughter's rampage continued. She whirled to face her mother, face red with the exertion of the escalated argument.

"Am I wrong? You know I'm not! And you know that because you know how useless _you_ are! Ever since he started leaving, you barely even come out of your room anymore! I see _him_ more often then I see you!" She tossed her head in Christian's direction and then concluded with " So don't you dare talk to me as if you own me. I don't even know either of you anymore!"

This was a knew development and Christian paused for a moment as his mind went over Belle's behavior since he had come home a few months ago.

"Is it true?" he asked, his voice still not calm enough to extinguish the argument.

"What?" Belle asked looking at him with fury in her eyes at her daughter's words.

"That you don't come out of your room?"

Belle looked at him incredulously as if to say that this wasn't the time to be asking questions like that. Refusing to answer she turned to face Sophia again and her stance has become one of finality. Her temper was being pushed to its limits and it wasn't going to hold much longer.

"Sophia, this has to stop! I've heard enough."

"What are you going to do?! Lock me up? Put me in the dungeon and leave me there to rot? I'm already a prisoner here. It would be an improvement!!!"

The longer Sophia spoke the louder she shouted so that by the end of her raging she was positively shrieking. Christian, still not totally recovered from his unwanted discovery of Belle's daily whereabouts, shook his head in disgust at his daughter. His face was an ugly mask of anger and bitterness. He spoke, but wasn't totally able to keep the fury out of his voice.

"And what would you know about prisons, Sophia? As I seem to recall you have lived in this palace your whole life as well we have. So it would seem you are right on this pedestal with us."

She turned back to her Father and glanced between him and her mother the way a cornered animal would.

"I'm nothing like you!" she growled. "And if my tomb had even a crack this big-" she made a movement with her fingers to indicate a very small amount indeed, " I would be out and free of you!"

She paused as if steeling herself to do something reckless then she looked him strait in the eye. "You really are that horrible monster the servants tell stories about."

Belle ever so slightly sucked in air but still managed to make a sound. And for an instant Sophia gazed at her mother a little surprised but then shrugged it off and turned back to her father who was looking at his daughter in a way that would have made a statue wither. He swallowed hard and clenched his teeth. Silently begging himself to not growl. He refused to do it. He wouldn't bring himself to show his daughter what he really was, and how close she had come to the truth. His pride would not allow it. He laid his hands on the tabletop and leaned in closer to her.

"Sophia-Belle, I may not be able to order you about as your father, but as your King and as the ruler of this country you are going to learn when to not push your parents this far any more. You will listen to me and you will obey; as my daughter and as a princess of France. Am I understood?"

She didn't even take a moment to think about it. She merely walked towards him as she spoke to signify that she was not afraid of him (though if truth be told that was why she was acting this way to begin with). She set her jaw defiantly in his direction and as evenly as her voice would allow she spoke up to him, though from not that far of a distance.

"You. Can't. Make. Me." She said, accenting each word as if he were incapable of understanding her.

Christian raised an eyebrow. Every instinct in him was being challenged at that very moment and it was becoming a struggle to remind himself that he was still speaking to his sixteen year old daughter and not someone he would need to fight for authority with.

"Yes I can." He said furiously. "And very soon you're going to find that out, young lady."

There wasn't a word to describe the look on Sophia's face. She shook with fury and did very little to control her voice.

"I hate you!" She said knowing that it would do her very little good to say but needing to say it anyways.

Christian leaned forward and his glare was only rivaled by hers.

"Well, that's unfortunate." He answered. One he had used every time she had said that very same thing as a child. Only this time it wasn't playful banter to her toddler fit-throwing. It was chilling because somehow Christian knew that this time they both meant what they had said and in the back of Christian's mind he wondered if they were ever going to recover from this night. Belle had tears streaking her cheeks, having finally risen from her own seat and was standing about four steps off to the side of them as they glowered at each other.

"How could you say something like that?" She whispered to her daughter.

Sophia turned to her mother in pure frustration.

"How can you be so blind, mother? Do you know what they are saying about you? Do you have any idea what's actually happening around you?"

Both her parents blinked in confusion at her sudden change of topic. Who were "they"?

"What are you talking about, girl?" Christian said, his patience almost gone with this whole ridiculous affair.

Sophia's face went blank, as if she was moving beyond hating him. "You may think I'm stupid but the servants aren't. They see everything you do. They told me. You can't stand the sight of her." Sophia pointed at her mother and for the first time she wasn't raging in a way that made you dizzy. She seemed to have found some kind of composure in her fury, at least for these few moments. "You hate her! You won't even touch her! That's what they're saying in the guard tower!"

Christian was totally bowled over by this twisted turn of conversation. In his racing brain he could only think of one thing: _Everyone in that guard tower was fired!_

"So tell the truth now, _Christian_!" Sophia continued, her strange composure slipping away. "You stomp around here so superior and pompous when in reality, you're a lie! If there was anyone in this whole world who was worthless it was you and you know it don't you?! I don't want to have anything to do with you. You disgust me!"

And then it happened. Christian did not even know how it happened. It was as if the spirit of his own father, that had tormented him all the years of his life, had finally broken free of Christian's nightmares and inhibited his body. He wished that were true because then he could feel like he would never have done what he did. Without thinking in the slightest he struck his child across the cheek with the palm of his hand. Both women screeched in protest. Sophia jumping back and Belle jumping forward to stop her husband, afraid that he was going to harm their daughter more. He had not intended to do it. He had not once in his life ever thought of hitting his child for punishment, indeed, that was what his own father had done to him. Beating him mercilessly until his back was nothing but a mass of blood and pulpy tissue. He had promised himself that he would never raise one finger to his children and in an instant of fear and rage he had broken his oath and betrayed one of the only things in his life he deemed worth living for.

Sophia grabbed her cheek and looked to her father hurt and angry beyond anything he had ever seen before. He could feel his own rage boiling inside of him still and fought it down with all the self-control he could muster. Doing his best to show as little emotion as possible he took a step back, clutching his hands around his stomach to keep them from burning with the shame of his actions.

"Sophia, go to your room this instant. We are through. You will not leave your quarters for the rest of this week while I think of what I'm going to do with you. That is an order."

Before he could say anything else though Sophia had wheeled back around the table, snatching a goblet of wine off its surfaces she hurled it at his head with all the strength she possessed. Even the servants gasped this time as they watched the cup spin in their master's direction. With the reflexes of a cat and the agility of an Alpha wolf attacking its prey, Christian flung out his arm and seized the cup in mid air coming an arms length away from his body in a way that was so alien and unreal that for a moment even his facial features bore witness of the animal that lay inside of him. The staff, including Lumiere and Cogsworth who were standing in the doorway, looked to their master with the largest range of emotions. Some wonder, some pity; but none as drastically different as the two women in his life. Belle gazed at him with such pain and anguish that he could only look away. Sophia on the other hand had fear and disgust etched into her beautiful features.

"There is something wrong with you. Believe me when I say I'm going to find out what it is."

And without another word she ran full scale out the door. Everyone listened as her footsteps faded away except Christian. Her last words rung in his ears like a bell that was hung directly above his head. He could feel the monster. It wanted out and for the first time in seventeen years he let it.

With a roar that started deep inside his bowels and then traveled up his ribcage into his lungs and then finally out his mouth; a howl that you could feel deep into your soul. It was loud enough for the surrounding farms to hear and it scarred the inside of all those who witnessed the twisted madness on his face. Grasping the goblet in his hand, wine sloshing his dinner jacket and the floor, he hurled it to the side of him. It traveled clear across the dining hall and hit a painting with such force that the thing fell to the floor with an echoing clatter. He stood there breathing hard as he felt the monster inside him retreat back to the darkness. Leaving him alone and cold inside without any hope of warming himself.

Christian swayed on the spot thinking he might swoon. Everyone knew better then to take a step towards him except Belle. He heard her foot hit the ground with amazing clarity. Jerking on the spot he turned to her and with astounding calmness for the temper he had just displayed he put out a hand to stop her and said, "Don't!" She shook with pain and fear at him and made to speak but he cut her off.

"Belle, don't! Just leave me be". And abandoning her on the opposite side of the chasm he had created between the two of them he tore out of that room almost as fast has his daughter had.


	10. Running Away

_Authors Note: In my version the castle was transported after the original spell to a surrounding landscape of farmland and villages, very close to Paris. I wanted there to be a completely separate place for the forest it was originally in and the place the castle was currently residing, so that it was far more dramatic. This is why Sophia can shimmy out of a crack in the wall and escape without falling to her doom. Also, there are some statement made in the narration that seem a little off, but I think you'll catch on. It's the same with Christian, only most of this chapter is from Sophia's vantage point. Most of the things aren't really true, but it's how she perceives them._

_**NEW AUTHORS NOTE: (January 23, 2010): Most of this is the same. A few sentences have been restructured but nothing too dramatic. The only part that I really worked on is a paragraph pretty close to the end where Sophia's reason behind her anger is laid out. It's the fifth from the bottom if you just wanted to read that. Sophia needed a broken heart so that it could be healed.**_

**Chapter Ten: Running away**

Not a soul in this castle could doubt that there was a very poor relationship between the King and his family. But the immense problems that had occurred between Christian and his daughter had come as something of a surprise to everyone. Sophia not least.

If you could pinpoint the heir of France it would be easy to say that she was an ordinary girl. She loved to talk, dance, and laugh. She loved reading more then anything which was something uncommon for a Princess but quite natural for any daughter of Belle to be interested in. In fact most of her wild notions had come from her books. She had come to a conclusion at a very early age that as far as adventure, romance, and happiness went it did not include Princess's. They were really very boring creatures. Fairy tales were the worst and she held them in very little regard. Princesses were so useless. And in every story she knew of (Snow White, Cinderella, Repunzel) parents seemed to hate their daughters.

It's not as if she relished in the idea that her father hated her, that her mother regarded her as nothing but leverage. But once she had heard that those sorts of things actually do happen in families and that it seemed to be much more common in royal families she finally started to see that hers wasn't much different from everything she had read about.

At that moment she hated her father more then anything. And she had never been angrier in her life. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her, striking at him in every way she could. When she had finally come to the conclusion that she could never feel better doing anything so trivial she had already come up with another solution that was far more beneficial to her own cause.

When she reached her room the guards were already in place. She could almost believe that her father and his servants could read each other's minds. Fortunately though, he had posted the two most incompetent members of the guard he possessed. Their names were Armand and Lamont and she had known them for as long as she could remember. In her mind she reasoned that she couldn't understand how in the world Chip had come up with a couple of brothers as stupid as these two "fine gentlemen". But the thought of Chip caused a small pang to cut across her heart. She had been close to the boy even though Chip was eight years her elder. At that moment, she hated her father even more for allowing him to leave. Everyone that she cared about let her down! She was better off without them.

Sophia didn't even breathe as she passed the two guards, but went strait inside and closed the door. The real irony of all this was that there was a rose trellis outside her bedroom widow. Her room was not actually that far from the ground, only about two floors up. As silent as the grave she doused her lamps. She had once read in a book about a girl doing the exact same thing she was doing and so the ideas were easy to come by. She stuffed her bed up with pillows. After that she scattered her clothes about the room as she had done every night. Unfortunately she did not know how to take her corset off on her own. But she shrugged that worry off and replaced her clothes with her riding costume. She was going to steal the new filly from the stables because her own horse was still being shoed.

She schemed about sneaking into a farmer's home and stealing his clothing (and of course the clothes will somehow fit her perfectly). Then she would cut her hair short so that no one would recognize her (and somehow everyone that would meet her won't detect that this beautiful young boy just happens to have a perfect feminine shape and grace). Smiling at her own "flawless plan", Sophia-Belle opened the window and putting one leg over the side found her footing and began to climb down. She would be free as soon as she made it out of the rose garden, which was what she was descending right into. There was a small opening inside the gate and she knew that she could squeeze through without anyone noticing a thing.

Christian could be found in his room. Everyone in that castle knew that if they were to disturb him they might as well behead themselves. After undressing himself down to his breaches and his cotton shirt he pulled on his dressing robe and without even a thought for sleep he sat down at his study to work late into the night. He knew that Belle was currently crying herself to sleep only down the corridor. He knew that his daughter was currently locked up inside her room wishing him dead. But all these things couldn't matter anymore. He had to concentrate. He had to keep going because if he stopped, if he let himself feel what he knew was only waiting beyond the surface of his mind, he would never come back again. He must not think. He must work until he cannot see strait and then start over again the next day.

Checking to make sure that the door was locked, he went over to his desk and took out a small box that he kept hidden in the bottom drawer. Opening it with the greatest of care he pulled out a pair of spectacles and put them on before he sat down to his desk to work. The only soul in the world that knew about the spectacles was Cogsworth. And this was so only because Christian had needed him to procure them for him. He didn't want anyone to know that he was losing his eyesight this early in his life. Especially when he, at one point, had eyesight so keen he could see in the dark. Deep down he knew that someday he would have to succumb to the weakness his body was presenting, fearing that sooner or later he would most likely be totally blind.

Cursing his life in general. Secretly wishing somewhere in the darkest corner of his mind that he could go back to a lifetime ago when he was cursed and trapped but more happy then he could remember being for a long, long time.

Sophia was not exactly slight of build. That isn't to say she was large but she was rather curvy for her breed; much taller then most women of the court. Her neck was thick, but proportionate; her hands slim, but long, giving the air that they were almost too big. This made for a wonderful musician her parents had cultivated in her. She was beautiful, that's for sure, but a type of beauty that did not strike you dumb at first glance. Her beauty was earthy and powerful. With large breasts and hips, she had a perfect hourglass shape and when she stood you could almost imagine the queens that came before her.

So it really was a loud thump that resounded when she hit the ground outside her window and it was a sure lucky thing that no servants had been inside the servant quarters at that hour when the sound occurred or she really would have had to do some quick talking. She looked around suspiciously; knowing that at any moment guards would come spilling out of every door and window, swords and guns drawn to chase after her as she was fleeing for her life.

The rose garden that surrounded Rose castle was one of the largest gardens in France. Sophia never understood why, except for names sake, but roses really were the most obvious of plants in the entire garden area. And the more peculiar thing about them was that her father, the king himself, tended to almost three-fourths of the roses that grew here. More then once had she seen him fly into a rage when he had caught some poor misguided fool hacking into a rose bush or vine to make room for more of some other kind of bloom. She could remember waking up many a morning, seeing him out there with only a cotton shirt or sometimes no shirt at all (when the heat was too excruciating), delicately cutting and pruning his roses. It was odd and she never understood it.

She passed dozens of rows of roses. Thinking to herself of all the things she was going to be able to do when she was finally free. And just as she reached the gate where the small opening was still concealed neatly by a small bush, she paused. Looking around herself she knew that this certainly must be the last time she would ever see the castle. It almost made her dizzy to think of what she had been missing in life because of her father. What kind of a person she could be if she just hadn't been born a princess. She wanted to see things, she wanted to experience life and love…love that did not include a contract and a large pile of gold. Sophia felt her world consisted of nothing but the walls around this garden. The roses within it were a mark of the life she had lived. She was her fathers rose. A beautiful little flower, cut and molded, planted in the exact moment at the right time to fit how he wanted her and trapped by her own roots and lineage. She wanted a life that was hers and only hers. She wanted a father that loved her for just being her and did not hide the whole world from her including his own past for reasons she could not even begin to comprehend or forgive him for.

It had been twelve that Sophia had realized that her father no longer loved her mother. The wild rumors about illicit affairs and late night tavern drunkenness came much later. And if Sophia were being truly honest with herself she could locate directly the moment when she not only watched her world fall apart, but also felt a deep bitterness towards her father. Every year for her mothers birthday, for as long as Sophia could remember Christian had given Belle a book. Some ravishingly beautiful literary thing that he had located from a distant place in the world. One only a king could afford. With the book he would always attach a pink rose to the books ribbons and give it to Belle with sly kiss. They would usually celebrate and everything would be wonderful. When Sophia was eleven Belle had still been too sick to celebrate her birthday and so it wasn't until the year following that she noticed the change. He had come home from one of his journeys on the day of Belle's birthday and had ordered the feast as usual. Then when it had come time for the festivities everyone had waited for him until finally Cogsworth had come down to reveal that the king would not be joining them for the celebration. Sophia had watched as the Major-Domo handed Belle a very lovely new book that was totally void of it's pink rose. She had sat outside her mother's door that night listening to her cry herself to sleep as she would for hundreds of nights to come until Sophia no longer cared anymore. The tears were a regular part of her miserable life and it just couldn't matter. She had to move on from it somehow.

And now here, in this lovely garden she wondered what it was going to be like to live without the roses. Without really even thinking about it she looked to her left to see a brilliantly blooming pink rose. It was stunning in a group of roses that couldn't even compare. She hesitated for a moment, then leaning down she breathed in its summer fragrance with a longing on her face for all the things she wished for her own life.

Now you might think that magic is something we can feel, but not always. You might think that if you were to be physically transported miles away from the spot you were standing in without so much as a step, you would know that was what was happening to you, but not always. And just as Sophia-Belle was raising her head to look around her she suddenly found herself in a place she had not even slightly intended to be.

From the looks of it, it must have been a small cabin, though there was no bed, nor other rooms. The walls were lined with books of every dirty, dusty sort. The table was littered with all manner of peculiar objects and in the center was what Sophia could only guess as being a cauldron. A very small and shabby little thing and from the odors coming from it she was sure it was not being used to prepare soup.

With a small gasp she turned on her heels, preparing herself to run as fast as her long legs could carry her, only to behold a young man gazing intently at her from a corner near the door of the cabin.


	11. The Spell

_Authors Note: Alright this is really one of those chapters. Sophia gets herself into a mess and she reacts in the worst way possible. This chapter is a little crazy though; I hope it doesn't scare you…  
Wilhelm is a nasty little bugger who knew what Sophia was feeling and just played on it. It really wouldn't have taken much coaxing to convince her. She already believed the things he was saying. Now it does get a little graphic, so if you're really seven and on the internet without adult supervision well…. GET OFF. Go find your mom and play with play dough or something.  
It might not make sense but the gist of it is Wilhelm is recasting spells and using Sophia to do it. He isn't really a great wizard. He can't do what the Enchantress could do so he needed Sophia to make it happen. The fact that the spell does strange things to her only shows what shoddy work he produces. It also ads to the dramatics of it all. Making Sophia more vulnerable gives her more reasons to be hysterical. It's a catalyst to the next few chapters.  
Wilhelm does mentions some things that may not make sense. The whole explanation will come much much later but don't fret. Just take everything for what it's worth._

_**NEW AUTHORS NOTE( January 23, 2010): I changed allot of the dialogue in this one. I probably shouldn't admit this but some of the things that were said when I wrote this chapter was for later chapters and well…. I have since changed what's going to happen in later chapters and so I had to change some of the things that were said in this one. SOOO sorry if this confuses you later on. It would be well to read through this as if it was the first time. I used the idea of magic mirrors more that is an obvious throwback to the movie. I also wanted both Wilhelm and Sophia to sound more intelligent then I was making them. Don't know if I achieved that but I tried.**_

**Chapter Eleven: The Spell **

"Ah, Sophia! Right on time!" The young man boomed unfolding his arms "You know I was beginning to think you were going to lose your nerve". His smile broadened but he remained where he was.

Sophia took a step back trying to get her bearings. At first glance the young man had seemed rather ordinary but after closer inspection she could see that he didn't even look altogether human. There was something not right about the size of his eyes, nor the color. They seemed to be so black that she was certain he did not have any pupils. He gave off this strange light that made him seem so much greater in size then he actually was. And then of course his clothes were so eccentric looking that she almost laughed at his appearance. He was swathed in some sort of robe that had all these colors blending together. As if someone had used his body as a human canvas for a very ugly painting. Holding out her arms in front of her she looked at him with anger on her face.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Again she scanned her eyes around the cabin. It really was a filthy place; she would never have lived there.

"Such a simple question Sophia, really I thought you were smarter then that? Wouldn't you rather know how the stars rotate? Or how the wind blows? Or at least I would think you would like to know how you even got here?"

The man was taunting her and she was not used to being taunted. Her anger flared up into her like a wildfire and she squared her body out as if to fight him.

"Well, whoever you are you're not going to get away with kidnapping me! My father is the King and he will not rest--"

"Now hold on just a moment, _princess" _The young man interrupted her with derision in his voice. "I thought you were running away. Am I wrong?"

Sophia's words stopped her in her in her tracks. She had almost forgotten in the shock of finding herself so randomly in this strange little room that she _had been_ running away. Seeing that he wasn't in fact wrong, the young man continued.

"I wouldn't doubt that you're still upset from that retched awful fight you were just in. I can't say I would have done anything differently."

Deeply disturbed by this strange twist in events Sophia said the only thing that was a constant reoccurrence in her racing mind.

"Where the _hell_ am I?"

The smirk only grew more persistent on his face. If she was really being honest with herself she could see that despite his odd features and appearance he really was breathtakingly handsome.

"My my. I can see Christian has not taught you any manners! A beautiful princess such as you should not being using such language."

The young man finally took a step towards her and she jumped back like a doe having just heard footsteps. He let out a small laugh but turned away from her and began to make a wide circle around her. He was obviously sizing her up and once again she didn't like his disrespect of her.

"If you are not going to tell me who you are I'm going to leave this instant and fetch every guard in my palace!"

He hadn't even looked at her as she was threatening him. He only smirked again and circled her from behind.

"Will you now? That _will_ be a far walk for you. I hope you're up to it."

This took her by surprise. How far was 'a far walk'? The rose garden was still within the castle gates but this didn't seem to be any part of the rose garden she had ever seen. Was she really that far away? How had she gotten here?

The young man paused and then smiled sardonically at Sophia. "To answer your question you are…." He touched his mouth as if he was trying to interpret the best way to explain a complicated question to a very small child. " Somewhere between your world and mine; like a meeting ground for the two of us. We are safe here from prying eyes."

Of course none of this made any sense to Sophia and she looked about herself again as if the cracked paneling on the wall would have some sort of explanation.

"How did I get here?"

"My magic brought you here." He answered simply.

"Why?"

"Because you desired it. You wanted to be here and so here you are."

She looked at this young man as if he were mad.

"I would never desire to be in a contemptible little shack." she said scornfully.

"Perhaps not, but it is the place you wanted to be. Or more precisely the place where you could come to get answers"

"And you have the answers? You are?"

She turned about to face him as she said this. Her heart was pounding but she wasn't about to let him cross her again. She had to keep talking so she could figure a way out of this mess.

"My name is Wilhelm. And I am a…. well to put it in your crude language, I suppose you could call me a wizard. Though the more appropriate term would be a guardian."

It was her turn to smirk at him. "Guardian of what? The shack?"

His face remained passive but she could tell she had hit a nerve. Except that it gave her no satisfaction for when he had looked at her, his eyes had become another shade dark and she had this strange feeling of being swallowed up inside them. It frightened her more of what he might be like when he was actually angry and knew that this really wasn't the time nor place to test her luck.

"No. I am the guardian of the daylight. For now, at least, I had to bring you here so your meddling Enchantress wouldn't see you. She would not like having you running off as I'm sure you could understand."

Sophia felt bewilderment flood her mind. Was this another person he was talking about or was he really a wondering madman who spoke about an imaginary Enchantress while he thought of himself as some imaginary wizard? She cocked her head to the side and tried to determine which was right. Assessing her situation she said "Enchantress? Are you speaking of a person I know?"

For the first time the smirk left his face and it caused his features to relax giving him an even more striking beauty. He looked at her as if she had just said something so wonderful he couldn't believe his ears.

"The Enchantress. You must know the Enchantress. Aislin? Your father's Fairy Godmother?"

He gazed at her so piercingly that she had to look away for a moment. "My father has a Fairy Godmother? Is this supposed to be some kind of jest?"

He leaned back on his heels and began to grin foolishly. "You can't be serious. Christian has actually told you nothing of his past?"

Her brow knitted together as he said this. "Told me what? Who is the Enchantress?"

Misgivings alighted across her face as she looked at him. Trying to decide what he could possibly be talking about. He wasn't really raving and he _had_ mentioned something that had been on her mind for years. What was her father hiding from her?

"Oh this is too good to be true! Why you poor girl. I had no idea that he would imagine hiding her from you. What, with her lurking about all the time."

She took another step away from him as he had been continually getting closer to her while he spoke.

"How do you know my father? What is going on?"

His features changed again and this time to one of sincere sympathy that she found comforting instantly. Surely if he knew of what a tyrant her father was, perhaps he wasn't such a lunatic after all. Except that something in the back of her mind, a little voice that sounded allot like Chip's whispered _'Not too hard to convince you is it?'_

She brushed it aside as she looked again into the eyes of the man in front of her.

"I don't know your father directly but I have recently stumbled upon a few secrets about his past that you might be interested in. Things he would never want you to know about him."

Sophia felt hesitant. This was the most bizarre situation she had ever been in. Where had this man come from and why was he here now? What had changed that suddenly made him want to help her now. She had been suffering for years in her parent's castle and no one had ever come along with any answers.

"What kinds of secrets?" She finally asked, dipping her toes into the water before diving in. She _was_ very curious.

Wilhelm seemed to take this as some sort of indication that she was giving in because he put his hand out and graced her shoulder with it. Shivers traveled up and own her arm as she looked away from him.

"Would you like to find out?" he murmured in a voice that was the texture of melted butter. It was so soft and lovely and Sophia had never heard anything like it. So why was it at that moment when someone was genuinely being nice to her that she felt so uneasy? It could be possible, she thought to herself, that it was the fact that she had randomly been transported to some strange shack with some strange man who claimed to be a wizard.

"How do you know anything about us?" She finally blurted out not wanting to let her guard down just yet. He still had some explaining to do before she could trust him.

"Ah, you don't believe me. How can I make you understand?"

Sophia looked at him with doubt in her eyes. Her first inclination was to abruptly end their twisted conversation with a firm 'You can't' and storm out of this place. Everything in her brain was reeling with a perfectly clear understanding that magic did not exist. This was some cruel joke that was being played on her, or perhaps she had fallen asleep after all. Still there was something strangely comforting about all this. She had always felt like there were puzzle pieces missing in her life. Things that just couldn't be explained away in the fashion her mother and father had always tried to. Could it actually be possible that magic had something to do with all this?

Wilhelm seemed to grow impatient with her continued silence because after a moment he clicked his fingers together and then with a firm hand pulled her over to the opposite corner of the shack.

"Here, let me show you something."

Then with a flare of the dramatic he pulled a large curtain away from the wall to reveal a full-length gilded mirror where the dingy curtain had hung. Sophia took in a quick breath. The mirror was a thing of beauty and was so oddly out of place with the rest of the décor in the room. She almost felt envious that this strange jester had a mirror like this. She pictured it in her stay rooms reflecting her appearance while getting dressed for dinner-guests.

Wilhelm seemed to smile fondly at his mirror as he reached out and stroked his surface. Sophia didn't expect anything to happen and so she felt a cold shudder of surprise when the mirror's reflection changed. It went from normal reflective surface to swirling smoke twisting around mesmerizing her. The surface seemed to make a quiet sigh as if it was just waking up from a nap and was simply waiting for Wilhelm to give it instructions.

Sophia wanted to reach out and touch it as well but was afraid that the swirling image would disappear if she did. "Is this a magic mirror?" She whispered in hushed tones. "Like the one from Snow White?"

To her surprise Wilhelm chuckled. "Not exactly. But it will do for what it's good for."

"What is it good for?"

"Ask it to show you anything and it will. This was how I found you."

Sophia took a huge gulp and tried not to think about this attractive stranger watching her change in her room or bathe or whatever other incriminating things he could have been watching her do.

"Anything?"

"Anything." He said affirmatively.

She took a closer step towards the strange phenomenon of a mirror. She had a sly thought of what her father would think if he ever saw something like this. He didn't believe in magic and had told her so many times. He would be giving birth to kittens right now.

"Show me…." She said clearly into the mirror's surface.

"Show me… my mother."

Suddenly the mirror glowed bright and when the light had vanished again the surface had changed. Sophia gasped and took a generous step back. It just wasn't possible what she was seeing. It was like she was looking into a window and watching things from the opposite side instead of seeing them through a mirror.

It was her mother. She hadn't changed out of her dinner costume yet and from what Sophia could tell she was in her bedroom. Despite Sophia's complete disdain of her mother and her sheer stupidity, Sophia suddenly felt a huge rush of emotion flood her body. Her mother had allowed her hair to come undone from it's styling and was sitting on her bed. Her green gown's fabric was flowing around her like a river and she had propped herself up onto about fifteen pillows. And for all to see she was in obvious pain. With her face buried in her hands her small body was being wracked with torturous sobs that seemed to hurt from the inside out. Neat the corner of the mirror Sophia watched as Babette came and sat on the edge of the bed with a bowl of cool water and a damp cloth. Sophia watched as her mother submitted to having her face whipped clean of her ever-streaming tears. Just like a child which made Sophia almost sick. A battle was raging on inside of her. One part wanted to be disgusted with her mother for even showing such a weakness and the other wanted sob for her mother's pain. Where was her father in all this? She knew she didn't even need to wonder. Oh how she hated him at that moment. She would have done anything to make him hurt as much as he was making her hurt.

Wilhelm stood off to the side of her as she watched with rapt attention at the mirrors surface. Patiently he waited until she seemed to have had enough of the morose image before he finally pulled the curtain back into it's place, once again hiding the mirror from view.

"Are you convinced?" He finally asked nonchalantly picking at his fingernail while Sophia tried to regain some of her composure she had lost at watching the fantastic mirror show her something she had had no desire ever seeing again.

Sophia nodded and looked around herself solemnly wondering what good all of this was going to do. "So what do you want with me?"

His voice had become solemn and kind. It rang sweetly in her ears and along with the rush of sympathy towards her mothers pitiful image came much of her own hurt as well. In her haste to flee from the castle she had almost forgotten inside the rose garden. Now it had finally caught up with her and with a vengeance as well. Her hand flew up to her cheek. It didn't hurt at all but she tried to imagine that it did. Worst was the feeling that there was a possibility that her father would hit her again. It scared her more then she would like to admit.

"I wasn't lying when I said I was a wizard. I know how to help you." Wilhelm answered confidently.

"What do you mean help me?" Despite her encounter with the mirror this was almost too much to take in at once. Her mind spun over a thousand questions all at once. Was this strange man really a wizard? Could he really help her? And how? What could magic do to help her?

He took a step towards the table with the cauldron on it and placed a hand over his chest. "Sophia, I've been watching you for a long time. You have so much potential that is being squandered. Why do you think that is?" When she didn't answer he continued.

"You are much more special then you realize and you deserve to be treated much better then how you were tonight. Am I right?"

She swallowed again feeling the sting of the slap on her face. "How do you know about that?"

Wilhelm took a step towards her. He was now so close she could smell him, except that he didn't smell like a normal person should. He smelled strongly of rain, of wet grass and salt water. It was such a comforting odor that she felt herself enveloped in it. He leaned down and whispered to her so close that they were almost touching.

"I can help you. We can cast a spell that will make him see you. Actually see you the way you were supposed to be seen." He leaned in so close their noses were almost touching. "A Queen." He murmured sweetly to her.

Sophia had an involuntary image of herself sitting on the throne. Everyone was bowing to her as she smiled. Her kingdom was restored and beautiful. Everyone was equal and everyone was alive, fat, and happy. She, the sole provider and redeemer of France. The rescuer of the famine and drought and everyone adored her for it.

When she finally looked back at Wilhelm she could see that he was smiling at her. He had his hand held out and she felt shivers ride up and down her back once again. It was almost too beautiful sounding to be real. She wanted to shout out that she believed him. That this fantastic story was just what she had been looking for.

"Why would you do that for me? What do you stand to gain?" She finally asked evenly, wanting to make sure she was doing the right thing. Whatever that was.

Wilhelm smiled toothily at her. "You are the suspicious little thing aren't you? I like that." Then taking her shoulders in his hands he looked at her. " We'll call it even. I help you and in turn you're really going to be helping me."

Sophia didn't understand what he meant by that but the whole affair was becoming almost too tempting for her. She had wanted so badly for something to happen and now that it was finally happening she was furious with herself for even hesitating for a moment. She bit her lip for the shortest of seconds and then with a deep breath she gave a quick nod.

"Alright. How are you going to do it?" she whispered.

He gestured to his cauldron. "With this. It's very primitive, but it has been the only magic left to me."

She looked at the cauldron and tried to imagine how it would solve her problem. He suddenly became businesslike and walked over to it. Stirring it and nodding to things on the table, they lifted themselves of their own accord and hurled one by one into the cauldron with a soft splash. She marveled at the wonder she was witnessing. Surely this young man really did want to help her. She took a tentative step towards him and tried to peer into the cauldron. He took another step back in her direction and held out his hand.

"All I need is your willingness Sophia. All I need is for you to trust me."

She nodded her head again and then looked at him evenly. "The secrets you were talking about… the ones my father has hidden from me… Are they bad?"

It was odd but for some reason, of all the moments, this was the one she suddenly felt a rush of guilt for even asking the question. Betrayal is so strange that way.

Wilhelm laughed at her naiveté. "Do you think he would have kept them from you if they weren't?"

As much as that made sense Sophia still wasn't sure. Her father had said allot of things that were turning out to be a lie these days. Still, this man Wilhelm, was the first to even begin to talk to her as if she were an adult capable of understanding anything.

"What must I do?" She said firmly resolved. She was going to make a change. Things had gone on long enough the way they were.

Wilhelm's smile caused the room to light up. "I only need a few more ingredients for the spell to be complete. Something of your fathers and something of yours."

Sophia looked around as if those things would pop out of thin air to aid her. She looked down on her hands to see her family ring gleaming from her finger, the one given to her by her father. Apparently he had inherited it from his. She pulled it off without another thought and handed it to Wilhelm. He smiled and waited for her to come up with something of her own. Walking over to the table, she retrieved the knife and pulling a stream of her hair away from her head and dug into it furiously. Slicing off a fat lock that filled her whole hand, she handed it to Wilhelm and with that he swept away from her and back to his cauldron.

It all seemed so strange. Strait out of a book. Too fairy tale to be real and yet she believed that this young man could help her. Standing stone still in the middle of the shack she watched as he dropped the ring and then the hair into the cauldron.

She found that what happened next was nothing like a fairy tale. The room suddenly went very dark. Her skin began to crawl with the cold that had set in as the lights went out. Then the cauldron lit up with an eerie blue light that illuminated Wilhelm's face and it was no longer soft and gentle but harsh and chiseled looking as if the shadows had suddenly become a part of his skin. He was chanting something that she couldn't understand and then instantly he stopped. She looked at him and for the first time that night became truly frightened. She realized that she should have been afraid long before this moment.

He no longer looked handsome at all but twisted and unnatural. He leaned over the cauldron and she could see that his entire eye socket had been blacked out. She took a step back just as he whispered another word and a rush of wind hit her like a stampeding horse. It was a moment before she regained her wits and it was another moment before she realized something was wrong. It finally struck her that she no longer felt the pressure of the corset she had been unable to remove. In fact, she no longer felt any clothing on her body. And indeed as she looked down on herself she could see that she was now standing in the middle of the room with a fully grown man, completely naked. She tried to grasp at herself to cover her body and out of the darkness she heard a terrifying laugh as she realized that Wilhelm was no longer at his cauldron. She spun around trying to find him and felt his robe brush her side. She whirled around again and knew that she was never going to be able to see him in the dark.

"Where are my clothes?" she cried out.

Another laugh resounded and it had the effect of screaming into a vast cave. The laughter reverberated off the walls and continued till it was growing so loud all you could hear was the beating gales. It resounded again, and then again a third time till the noise no longer resembled laughter but the howling of some animal being tortured to death.

Without warning Wilhelm was next to her. He stood towering over her; the only light seemed to be coming _from_ him. She jumped back in alarm, her bare feet sliding across the wood floor. And then he was gone. She could hear him swirl around the small room. One moment he was at the corner, then next by the table. With each movement there was the sound of crashing waves and swirling trees. Sophia screeched as each time he moved he came closer and closer to her till finally she flinched and whipped around to find him inches from her. Swiftly he had his hand around her throat but he wasn't choking her. Still, she began to scream and writhe anyways. He clenched her harder and then held out his hand to show her a small glass vile the color of sapphire. For a moment she held still to look at it, the sounds around them were deafening and she felt hot tears burning her cheeks as she became violently aware that she was more vulnerable then she had ever been and knew how easy it was going to be for this man to do exactly what he wanted to with her. Instead though, he spoke with a whisper that could freeze your soul.

"When the time is right you'll feel it deep into your bones. When that happens, this bottle will appear. Throw it into the eyes of your father and the spell will be complete. Do you understand?"

He said this as his face came closer and closer to her. She writhed and whimpered out

"Please let me go!" His hand began to slink down her throat and she again attempted to relinquish herself from his grasp but it would seem he was holding her with more then just his hands.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes!" She shouted.

He smiled and she felt the bile rise up in her throat as his hand traveled down her stomach.

"So be it"

Waiting for the vomit to come up she allowed her lids to close but it was a moment before she realized that everything had gone dark and the sensation of cold bare hands on her exposed stomach were no longer there. Her feet landed on cool earth, grass poking out between her toes. Her eyes flashed open in surprise as she found herself standing naked in the middle of her father's rose gardens.


	12. The Great Hall

_Authors Note: This was a hard chapter. I didn't have an easy time writing it though I think I like it alright. Not my favorite, but there are things that I do love about it. I understand that Belle has been poorly represented in the story thus far but you have to first understand that this story isn't as much about her as it is about Christian. That doesn't make her a lesser character it just puts her on the back burner a bit. _

_I wanted it to be seen without getting rhetorical or ridiculous. I mean how boring would a chapter be if it were ten pages of Christian pacing the floor waiting for some word of his daughter. The staff is efficient and would have found her quickly, especially since they sent so many people on it so fast. Sophia was probably in the shack longer then it seemed to her and it was perfect timing for when they finally sent people out to find her, before they even alerted Christian. _

_**NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE (January 23, 2010): More sentence structure revisions. Not much new after that. This one didn't have as much wrong with it as others did. But enjoy anyways.**_

**Chapter Twelve: The Great Hall**

It had been the wind that had awoken Christian. He had not meant to fall asleep. It was only about midnight but somehow his mind had drifted. The next thing he remembered was that the wind had blown his bolted window open with such force that it had caused his heart to jump right up into his throat. He felt a chill that was strangely inward. As if the cold was coming from inside his being. He pulled his dressing gown closer across his body and stood up to shut the window. The latch was swinging off its hinges and he felt a pang of depression at the notion that if the wind was strong enough to rip his window off its hinges that all the heads on every single one of his roses was probably ripped off too. It didn't matter how miraculous his roses were, they could still be mutilated by extreme weather.

Except, strangely enough, when he gazed outside it was not windy at all. In fact it was quite warm and the heat seemed to shimmer off the trees within the castle walls. It didn't look as if there had been so much as a light breeze while he had been sleeping. He made an attempt to brush it off as his imagination, but he was sure he had heard a huge gust of wind. What else made that sort of noise?

Sitting back down at his desk he took his spectacles off and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. Then attempted to relocate the place in his work where he had fallen asleep. It hadn't been more then fifteen minutes, as he was just settling down to the affairs of the grape harvest, when a thundering knock resounded on the door. He jumped almost three inches and had to steady his chair before he toppled over. Looking around in confusion, his heart hammered painfully inside his chest the way one would expect a heart attack to feel like. That would be next, he was sure of it.

The proprietor of the knock waited about five seconds and then began to hammer on his door at though attacking it. He jumped out of his chair and ran towards the door shouting as loud as he could to be heard over the sound of the insistent pounding.

"I'm coming! Stop your noise before I do it for you!" The knocking stopped and he paused at the door. "What is it? I thought I said I did not want to be disturbed tonight!"

The voice on the other side was muffled and frightened and he felt his anger ebb away slightly. "Please your 'ighness, zere is an emergency. Monsieur Cogsworth ordered me to come and get you at once!"

He knew that it was female and tried to identify the voice. It took a moment before he could distinguish that it was Celestine Lumiere. Why had they sent _her_? It was the middle of the night she should have been in bed.

He could tell that something really was the matter in the tone of her voice but he still couldn't bring himself to open the door. Could it be someone at the front gates? If it was someone coming to call and they were requiring _him_ to answer it then it couldn't be anything good. Then again, he was willing to except a bouquet of weeds in exchange for every room in the castle if he could just get some peace. But that was neither here nor there; this had to be something else.

Without further ado he unlocked the door and only had about half a second before the girl, not more then seventeen had thrown herself onto his arm and began to drag him down the hallway.

"I do beg your pardon your 'ighness, but you must come quickly. My father is about to 'ave kittens!" She said breathlessly as she pulled him with the limited amount of strength she possessed.

The daughter of Lumiere was a feisty little thing, something like her mother, Babette. But she still wasn't much bigger then Belle and came nowhere close to Sophia's height. Christian pulled back, wrenching the girl to a stop.

"Celestine! Please, what has happened?"

He was stunned to see the girl was close to wits end herself.

"Oh Christian! Sophia 'as run away!"

Christian felt like an icy hand had just clutched his heart. He was temporarily immobilized as he allowed her words to sink in. He had never had something like this happen when it came to his children. He was used to being obeyed by everyone and so it came as nothing short of unthinkable to realize that his daughter had finally done what she had been threatening to do since the day she turned three.

But shock only lasted a few seconds and then fear replaced it. He had to find her. She could be hurt; she could be killed or attacked by lonely cutthroats on the side of the road who have no qualms with raping an innocent girl. Princess or not.

Grasping Celestine's hand he put his arm around her shoulders and began to jog down the corridor. She hung on for dear life, not being able to take the same strides as him.

"Does the Queen know?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth.

She was gasping for breath and he finally took the time to actually notice that this girl at his right arm was quite a mess. Her bonnet wasn't even attempting to hold in her hair; her clothing rumpled and un-pressed. She had tears running down her face and it wasn't any wonder to him. Sophia and Celestine were the closest of friends in the castle.

"Non, your 'ighness! Cogsworth told me to fetch you immediately and to tell no one else." Her breathing was coming out so fast that he could hardly understand her.

"Good man." Christian whispered as they came upon the great hall. He only stopped long enough for the servant to jump from his chair and open the door for the two of them. Christian took his arm off Celestine's shoulders but he did not release her hand.

"Christian!" Cogsworth shouted from the corner of the room where he had been conversing with the heads of household. Taking huge strides he pulled the poor servant girl behind him, though not forcefully.

Cogsworth addressed Celestine first. "Have you told him what has happened?"

"Oui" She answered. Then letting go of Christian's hands she allowed her father to wrap his arms around her and kiss her cheeks.

Christian suddenly felt a pang of jealously. It was the most unreasonable feeling for a time like that. To be jealous of his butler and the relationship he had with his daughter. Christian knew that it was none of his business and yet a strange longing came to his arms as he wished more then anything that they were grasping his own daughter that night, instead of Lumiere and Celestine in his place.

"How do you know she has run away, Cogsworth? Where are Lamont and Armand? They were supposed to be watching her."

"Please, your 'ighness. It is not zeir fault." Celestine said from beside her father.

"What do you mean?"

"You see, I 'ad gone to bed at my normal 'our. About a 'alf 'our ago ze queen rung my bell. I got up and went to 'er and she asked me to take a bed warmer to ze princess. She said 'er daughter needed someone to be wiz 'er tonight. I redressed and prepared ze warmer and did not zink to rush. I went into 'er room and it was dark. 'Er clothes were scattered about ze room and I realized that she must have gone to sleep with her corset on, for she cannot remove it 'erself you see. Then I saw zat 'er window was open but it was not cold out and I was not disturbed that Sophia might be chilled. I knew the queen just wanted me to be wiz 'er. So I went to shut ze window so that no one could see her undressing and I dropped ze warmer on 'er bed. It was an accident and I began to run around to keep 'er from being burned but when I pulled the covers back she was not zere. 'Er bed 'ad been stuffed wiz pillows and her riding clothes were missing. I called for Lamont and Armand and after a few moment of coaxing to get zem to enter the princess's room they discovered that the rose trellis outside 'er window had been disturbed. All ze roses had zeir 'eads ripped off."

Christian was stunned. How could this have happened? Lumiere seemed to read his thoughts.

"'Er window drops right into ze rose garden, Christian. And 'er room is only two stories above the ground. It would 'ave been more zen easy for 'er to climb down it."

He felt panic ride up into his throat. This was his fault. He had driven her to run away. He was going to lose his baby girl and it was _his_ fault.

"What horse did she take?"

"That's the thing, your highness. There are no horses missing."

"What about money? Did she take anything of value from her room?"

"No, sire. That was the first thing we looked for after we sent as many guard who were awake after her. They are halfway to the surrounding villages by now." Cogsworth seemed exasperated that Christian would even have to ask such questions.

Everything seemed to be going at the pace of a snail for him. His advisors had done everything. It was possible that if they had elected not to tell him, he might never have even known his daughter had run away. It wasn't unusual for servants to keep secrets from their master's, even ones as good a Christian. Deep down he knew that advisors would never hide something like this from him but he also felt like he was losing something. As if the strength he held in his body. The power of his muscles and the speed of his legs were gone. He felt like a frail little king, too useless to even realize that his daughter was in so much pain that she would rather rip herself from him then endure his company.

Then it stopped and instead of going slowly he sped up. Pulling open his dressing gown he began to remove it. He had not discarded his green silk slippers he had been wearing that evening, but they would have to do. He could afford a new pair. Walking over to Babette he looked at her and then with gravity in his voice he said "I need you to go and alert the queen. Please be gentle and tell her if she would like she can come and wait in the hall if Sophia returns."

Turning around on his heels, he faced Lumiere, "Take Celestine and have her go to bed."

To the girl "Do not leave your room, if she returns I need to speak to her and I cannot have anyone sneaking into her quarters. I am sorry, but do you understand?"

Celestine nodded. He again turned to Lumiere "Return as quickly as you can and make sure that Belle does not leave the castle."

After that he dismissed those he had spoken to and the orders were immediately obeyed. After the door was closed Christian had already retrieved his coat, setting his dressing gown on a chair he headed strait for the front doors. "I'm going to look for her."

It was as if he had just announced he was about to run away himself. Servants all around, people he had known and trusted since his tender childhood, came rushing at him.

"No, Christian!" Cogsworth cried, grabbing hold of his arm. "I have the entire midnight guard in search of her. Please stay here."

Christian wrenched his arm away. "I am not going to just sit here and wait. I have to find my daughter, Cornelius!"

"Your highness, leaving would only make the situation worse. We can't loose two members of the royal family in one night. And you the king as well."

"Do you honestly think I could not find her? She is my flesh and blood Cogsworth! I am going to go out there and I'm going to bring her back." Again Christian began to walk towards the door. He had never been defied like this, not by his servants. He wanted to turn around and put his fist into his advisor's face.

"Christian! You are the last person she wants to see right now!" In which case, he stopped in his tracks. It was as if Cogsworth had just slapped him round the head. He turned around slowly, only one arm inside his coat and glared at Cogsworth, feeling the truth in the statement.

"My King, I know that you are worried. I know that you are afraid, but for God's sake please do not leave the castle."

If Christian had a reply to any of this it was drown out by the echo of racing feet above them. Belle came bursting through the side door, her hair a tangled mess.

"Christian!" she shouted as she ran into the room.

He stood there, looking stupid, with his arms at his side, one inside his coat. His cotton shirt open at the chest and his green slippers on his feet. She, on the other hand, had not changed out of her evening gown, which Christian found very odd indeed. It was past midnight and the only thing she had done was let down her hair. Her face was blotchy and red and he knew that she had spent the last three hours sobbing. He feared that she was only in for more tears if they did not find Sophia soon. She stopped about four feet in front of him and looked around wildly as if to see Sophia hiding behind the chair or skulking in the shadows.

"Have they found her yet?" she asked him, her voice as panicked as he felt. He shook his head and shrugged off his jacket, looking away from Cogsworth and the harsh realities he had just been presented with.

"Christian, where could she have gone? She has never been outside the castle except in a carriage." Belle whimpered, holding herself with her arms trying to be calm in a moment when nothing seemed like it would ever be calm again.

"I don't know." He whispered all thoughts of rushing after his child forgotten as he tried to keep himself from weakening.

"What are we going to do?" She said, finally looking up into his face.

"Belle… I…"

He wasn't allowed to finish for at that moment a trumpet sounded. It was the call of someone approaching the castle from the lookout tower and Christian knew instantly that they had found her. Despite himself, relief flooded his heart and he dared brave a hope that she had not been gone long enough to have anything seriously happen to her. He hoped that she was alright, more then anything else, he hoped his daughter was unharmed.

Belle turned away from him and started in the direction of the door. The captain of the guards who had been searching for Sophia from the moment Cogsworth had roused him from his bed, came running into the entry hall towards Christian.

"Your Majesty, we have found her!"

Christian had not realized that he had been holding his breath and before he could get another word out he had to release it. "Who found her, Dinsmore? Where was she?" He asked with more then a little urgency.

"Lamont and Armand found her, your highness." His face became perplexed for a moment and then he continued. "She was… She was in the rose garden, sir. Forgive me, my lord, we had not thought to search for her there. It had been almost two hours. But if you will grant it, I must go and send word for my men to stop searching, some of them are halfway to the coast by now."

Christian nodded and then turned to Cogsworth. "If you could have the boys bring Sophia into the hall at this moment. I really think there needs to be a few words spoken."

Cogsworth nodded, relief of his own was glistening off his face.

Christian could not explain the range of emotions coursing through him. He felt pains he did not known existed. He had never been faced with challenges such as these. What could he say to his daughter without hurting her more? What could be done to discipline her? The answers were nowhere to be found in his limited experience of tough love for he had only endured the harshest cruelties as a child from his parents and then the rest of his adolescence was spent alone and hidden from the world.

He stood in the middle of the room, lost in his own anxieties as a father and as a human being when the sound of footsteps and screaming preceded the opening of the front doors. He could hear the voice of his daughter howling and shrieking cutting into the night and strait into the hearts of her parents who could not be more unprepared for the burden that awaited them.


	13. Defeated

_Authors Notes: Alright this chapter needs to be read with caution. Don't read it so fast that you get confused and fall on your face. I'm not sure I can bring out the exact emotions that I had when writing this chapter. It really kinda tore and my heart. You have to take into account that we are still inside the seventeen hundreds so propriety was something that Christian would hold very dear to him. Having his daughter defiled could bring about serious repercussions as well as more heartache then I could imagine. I'm not a parent but I know I caused mine allot of trouble and I can imagine how he must feel. Please don't be angry or try to over analyze it too much. Everyone in the room is pretty hysterical and it goes on for the entire chapter. It exhausted me.  
There is a huge chunk at the end that might make you a little squeamish if you have an overactive imagination. I wrote it the way I felt it should be. It deviates a little from the movie, at least the end of the movie, but we never really knew what happened at the first transformation. I've taken creative liberties.  
On thing I would like to mention; Christian has an odd quirk about his personality that if he goes to bed, things will be better in the morning. He says it several times in these chapters. It's sort of like a Scarlet O'Hara thing __**"I can't think about that right now. I'll think about that tomorrow."**__ Just thought I'd mention it, I found it kind of funny.  
The paragraph at the beginning are something like this chapter's very own prologue….stuck in the middle. I used a quote by Glen Keane where he talked about the villains in stories. I thought it was appropriate for this chapter… you might understand once you've read it._

_**NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE (January 23, 2010): Alright this is another one of those chapters that got the brunt of the revisions. I basically redid most of the dialogue. With the previous draft I had realized that though I love Christian and want him to be as enduring and lovable as possible I think I also neutered him. And well…. That just wasn't going to work out. I tried to make him a little edgier this time. He's not very nice to Sophia and not nearly as understanding. It works out better making things (I hope) a little more understandable on their parts. I also revised some of the structure of the transformation. Tried to make the words flow a little better. **_

**Chapter Thirteen: Defeated**

In the greatest of stories there always has to be some obstacle to fight. Some foe to vanquish that will leave the hero stronger then they had been before the story began. In Christian's great story _he_ had been the foe. It was the selfish pieces of him he had to fight and eventually vanquish to finally win back the one thing he had never had in the first place. His humanity, his hope, and his life. But in these stories they never say what it was like for the hero to grow old. Was his life full of simple pleasures all the day long? Or did life actually exist after happily ever after. Did the hero stumble again, did he lose control and feel the emptiness that comes when you need most, to feel the fullness of life and love. What is the hero to do in these times of turmoil? And what happens when the hero is no longer in charge of just his life and destiny but also the lives and destiny of his offspring? And when life comes to a point when the hero cannot fight alone, then what is to become of him? What happens to our heroes when they are finally defeated themselves?

Christian had spent sixteen years trying his best to be a good father, to be a good husband, and to be a good king. He had worked extensive hours splitting himself into four or five different people doing his best to keep everything tied together. But nothing in his lifetime would have prepared him for the scene which was laid before his feet at that moment.

The doors had swung open and in marched two young boys. Neither older then twenty-five, they were the adopted sons of Cordelia Potts. Having grown up in the castle the boys had been close to Christian's children. So he did not feel a sense of panic when they strode into the room, for they were like brothers to his Sophia and Christian trusted them.

In a twist of roles he found he had not trusted his daughter for a very long time. He was completely aware of this, though he would never say anything. He was fiercely protective of her and wanted everything to be perfect in her life. But in his struggle to simply survive in this castle he had inadvertently missed the best parts of his child's life. He had not watched as she had learned how to dance, or to speak languages, or to sew a strait line or anything. Without even meaning to, Christian had become her villain-character in whatever story she was pretending to live in. She did not know him anymore and it had finally cut right into Christian a simple truth. He no longer knew anything about his own daughter.

But this time, Christian watched. He watched as Lamont and Armand hauled Sophia, roughly into the room. Without even attempting to be gentle they plopped her down onto her feet right in front of her mother and father who were too shocked to even speak. Without waiting for an order they both retreated away as quickly as possible. Under any other circumstances Christian would have wondered about this, but at this moment it was quite obvious. Sophia, in the strangest turn of event, happened to be totally naked. She did not have a stitch of clothing on her body and looked like she must have been rolling in the dirt with nothing but her skin on. Her feet were cut and blistered and her face had plenty a thorn scratch to give her a chilling deranged look that would have been enough, if she hadn't been throwing such a fit only moments before.

Both Christian and Belle gazed at their daughter in horror, not daring to even approach for a relieved embrace. An embrace would connote that they were pleased that she was all right, that nothing had happened to her. Obviously this was not the case.

Sophia had stopped her thrashing and with a panicked expression looked around the room in a daze. As if she had no idea where she was. Christian could feel Belle tremble at his side. Regardless, though, he was impressed. She was allot more composed then she had any right to be. This whole thing really was too much for her. He wished that he had left her in her rooms for the night. She shouldn't be here to see this.

After moments of agonizing silence, Sophia's eyes alighted on her parents and she cringed, waiting for something horrible to happen at any moment. It was almost as if she didn't realize that she was standing in front of them as well as most of the heads of the house, completely naked. Christian was horrified. He himself had not seen Sophia naked since she was a very small child taking a bath. Now, before this night was over she was to be presented naked in front of more men then either of them cared to count.

Christian stared at his daughter in a mixture of revulsion and pity. Like someone had poured poison down his throat and was now burning him from the inside. He couldn't help himself he couldn't stop his words from betraying how he felt about her at that very moment. This was his daughter! _His_ daughter. Where had he gone wrong? He couldn't figure it out in his exhausted brain. Where in his training of her, in all the time he had spent cultivating her talents, had he slipped up and somehow given her reason to think that this was okay?

His mind raced over a thousand possibilities. She had been raped. She had been kidnapped. She had perhaps gone swimming and simply forgot her clothes. Except that deep down he was sure that none of these explanations were the right one. It would be too convenient. He could fix her being kidnapped or raped. He would simply go out and murder whomever it was who had done it. That was simple and he could wrap his mind around it and then move on. But simple was never a luxury Christian was allotted. His mind jumped to the only possibility that made sense. Biting his tongue he glared at his daughter, using every restraining technique he was capable of to keep himself from lashing out irrationally.

"Sophia" he said slowly, feeling his pulse quicken and then slow, quicken and then slow. "Where are your clothes?"

He was piercing her with his gaze and she was having trouble keeping her eyes from straying to his face. It was a terrifying face and she felt red-hot anger fill her with shame and defiance. A few things that should never be mixed.

"Sophia" He whispered so menacingly that it would have been far kinder to have shouted. "What have you done?"

She hated him at that moment, for asking her a question that she herself was not entirely sure she could answer. She felt so frightened, like a wounded animal caught in a trap. Deep down all she really wanted was to run to him, to have him put his arms around her and sooth her, tell her that magic wasn't real and that nothing could hurt her. But, in the end, pride was one of her strongest suits and she clutched onto it as if it were the only thing keeping her alive.

"I haven't done anything." She said to him, casting her eyes to her mother for support or at least guidance on what she should do. Belle felt a hope that in fact this must be some misunderstanding, that perhaps there was a logical explanation for why her daughter was being presented to her father in the middle of the night completely naked. Except, for the life of her, she could not figure out what that explanation could possibly be.

Christian knew that something was gravely wrong. He felt such dread quicken his heart that he acted purely on his own anguish at seeing his child in such a deplorable state. He grabbed her bare arms and shook her enough to bring her back to his attention.

"Sophia! You tell me right now what you have been doing!? Do you understand me? What have you done to yourself?" His voice was coming out as something that sounded almost like a panicked growl.

She began to feel hot indignity course through her. It was so unfair. She had left seeking freedom and had been tricked and frightened more then she could ever remember being. And the person she wanted most, to comfort her and heal her, was now accusing her of having done….having done whatever it was he thought she had done.

"Father, I haven't done anything! Let me go!"

She cried out in pain as she attempted to twist herself out of his grip. He hung on and pulled her closer to him so that now she could count the little swirling circles inside the irises of his blue eyes. She had always wished she had been born with his eyes. But as they had once enchanted her, they now held a fire that gave her hatred she could not remember feeling.

"Sophia-Belle, Don't lie to me!" He then gave her a good shake and her head flopped back and forth violently. "What the _hell_ do you think you were doing out there?!"

Christian's wild imagination was getting the best of him. He had repulsive images of Sophia rolling around in the bushes with some farmer or a filthy drifter, or both. It was enough to make him vomit but he squared his shoulders and gripped her warm skin painfully. "Well?" He shouted unable to keep the shakiness out of his own voice.

Sophia bit her lip hard from being shaken and nearly spat out blood. She was so furious that it was next to impossible for her to find a grip on the situation. Like a bull that sees red, she was nearly blinded by her fury. Ripping her arms out of his grasp, she stumbled away from him.

"Stop it!! You're hurting me!"

Christian felt fazed by this. He was disturbed by the fact that he actually did _want_ to hurt her. He wanted to beat the living daylights out of her and then lock her up in her room for the rest of her natural life. In total conflict with himself he diverted his focus to something allot less frightening to consider. Shrugging off his jacket he thrust it towards Sophia, perhaps a little more impatiently then he had intended.

"Put this on." Was all he could murmur without shouting into her face. He was growing increasingly aware that the whole hall was staring at them, and though that wasn't altogether _that_ many people he felt like his daughter and whatever she might have done to herself was on display for everyone to see.

For just a moment he registered surprise as she actually took the jacket in her hands. But that quickly dissipated when, with a withering glare, she took the jacket and thrust it onto the ground with all the might she could muster. This wasn't her fault! She had not asked for that insane wizard to take her clothes and for the life of her she couldn't understand why he had done it anyways.

"Don't try to cover me up like something you're ashamed of!" she screeched out in protest to the jacket.

Christian shook his head and gave a derisive chuckle. "Oh don't try and fool yourself, daughter. I actually _am_ ashamed of you!"

He heard Belle breath through her nose angrily and he nearly turned around to give her an apologetic look for his last comment but then thought better of it. He wasn't going to play this game anymore. Except that Belle, unable to keep quite any longer, stepped forward and placed a hand on her husbands arm. It was just enough to call him out of his own hell to take better notice of her. He gave her an almost startled look, something like the one he had given her at the dinner table. As if he had forgotten she was even there admits his attempts to deal with their daughter on his own. Making a small motion to stand a little closer to her he felt her hand give his arm a light squeeze, that was extremely reassuring despite the situation. He had a sudden urge to throw himself onto Belle's neck. To cry out in agony and pain at what was happening to their family. He wanted to bury his face in her breast and have her whisper that everything would be all right. He wished these things, but he knew he would never do it. He would not show that kind of surrender. He had to be strong enough to push her away because… deep down… he knew he could never be strong enough without her.

Belle turned her head to face Sophia and her features were firm without being hard set.

"Sophia?"

The girl heard her name as if it had come from a faraway place. She looked first from her mother then to her father. They were staring her down like an executioner would a prisoner about to be hanged. She felt so exposed, so unprotected and frightened that she held completely still pretending that no one could actually see her.

"Sophia, please tell us what happened. Please dear, did you meet somebody when you left the castle?"

She knew what her mother meant. Belle wanted to know if she had laid down like common harlot and allowed the first man she met on the side of the road to take whatever virtue they desired.

Sophia glowered at her mother impressively and Belle had an involuntary image of that exact same look on Christian's face when he was being scolded by just about anyone that would dare scold him.

Taking a deep breath Sophia opened her mouth. "I don't have to answer to you!"

Several people gave Sophia an incredulous look as if to say _'Are you being serious?'_ And once it was out she herself realized that it had sounded allot more impressive in her head.

Christian returned her glare. "On the contrary, young lady. You do!"

Belle already knew she was fighting a losing battle but she had to do something. These two were going to kill each other one of these days and by far she would prefer for it to not be tonight. She reached out a hand to stroke Sophia's arm that was beginning to mottle with gooseflesh from standing there naked for so long. Sophia didn't even hesitate, she swatted at her mother's hand the way she would a biting fly.

"Don't touch me!" She screeched. "You have no right to touch me!

Belle bit her lip but then tried once again to be soothing.

"Please dear. We just want--"

Sophia nearly hopped up and down trying to stay ahead of her parent's assumptions until she could figure out what she should do next. But it wasn't as if her father wasn't making this achingly difficult.

"This isn't my fault!" She screeched at her mother, remembering the image of her in Wilhelm's mirror sobbing her eyes out. " I was just trying to--"

Christian felt himself take a menacing step towards Sophia. "Enough!" He barked at her. Nothing, in his mind, could be said to explain this away. He needed to think, not to listen to her shout about the nonsensical notion that this was somehow _'not her fault.'_

His features sharpened darkly at his naked daughter and he found himself unable to control his thoughts before they filtered out his mouth.

"What is wrong with you?!" He said heatedly. "I wake up one day and you suddenly believe without a doubt that you don't have to do what you're told to do!" Christian clenched his fist and pumped it down to emphasize his point. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to put up with this anymore, Sophia! This is going to stop! The arguing and the disobedience and the _lies_ are going to stop!"

Sophia's lip trembled as she wrapped her arm around her breast to try and cover herself.

"Why don't you trust me anymore?" Her voice came out in a whine.

Christian made no attempt to stop his words from coming. Belle had taken a step away from him in his ranting but kept her mouth shut. It would seem that nothing she said was going to make a difference anyways.

"And what is it I'm supposed to trust Sophia?" He called out back to her. His voice shook and his eyes burned with ferocity. "You run away from home, and we find you scampering about the rose garden naked and disheveled?! I thought you were better then that!! How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

Sophia's face screwed up indignantly and she opened her mouth several times trying to come up with something truly biting to say. She clenched her teeth and tried as hard as she could to keep herself from crying.

"And what about all the lies you tell!!" she screamed out. Christian clenched his eyes shut in abstract frustration. This was simply a repeat of the argument they had had at the dinner table. All they were doing was going around and around. "How am I supposed to obey you when all you do is lie to--"

With his height, Christian was able to stand over Sophia with a considerable distance between their faces. He stepped close enough to her that she could not mistake one word he was saying as he cut her off from her rant.

"Do you want to know what kind of women wonder the roads naked Sophia?" He said quietly. "Strumpets! Whores!" His mouth emphasized the word and her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates in surprise. "Is that what you are? A whore?"

Someone in the room gasped, Christian wasn't sure whom. Belle took an involuntary step as her hand flew up to her mouth.

"Christian!" She cried out incensed by his language.

Without thinking about it Christian rotated his body swiftly and pointing a finger in Belle's direction and said with a voice not to be questioned. "Quiet! Not another word!"

Belle shrunk back as if he had lashed out at her and her face registered fear which only motivated Christian more in his anger. He turned back to face Sophia who's lip was trembling uncontrollably. Of all the things that had happened between her and her father nothing had ever been said to her that would rival being called a whore.

"Because if that's what you are now…then get out. I have no use for whores in my home. Do you understand?"

Sophia made no sign that she was even capable of answering. To Christian's great pain he watched as her face began to crumple and her eyes filled with burning tears that spilled down her cheeks in a steady stream. Shame flooded his whole body almost instantly. The words weren't going to be erased now that they had been said and there was nothing he could do to change that. His face felt stuck in a permanent scowl and he hated himself at that moment more then he had in his entire life.

Softly, as if afraid he would start calling her names again she whimpered out the only thing she felt would make any kind of impact.

"I hate you…"

Nothing was said for several moments. Christian felt his shoulders sag under the weight of the three little words so sincerely meant. Doing his best to keep the obvious pain out of his voice he murmured back his reply.

"Well…. That's truly unfortunate."

Nothing was said. He had no words left for her and in truth he was just ready to go to bed and try again in the morning. For what other options did he have? Tell her the truth? Make everything much worse then it already was? He couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't smooth this over, not tonight at least. He had made such a mess of everything already. He did not need to bring his past back into the circle for they already had enough problems to face.

Lowering his head in his sorrow he waved a hand in the direction of Sophia's ladies.

"Get her out of here." He paused for a moment but didn't bother to look up. "The rest of you go to bed. You've all seen enough!"

Sophia felt a loss as her father turned from her. As if a piece of her had just died and left her an empty shell. The words echoed in her mind like hundreds of bells ringing around her head _'Actually see you the way you were supposed to be seen'. _

"You're never going to see me are you?"

She whispered to his retreating back. He heard her but he wasn't sure what she had actually said. _'Never see me'?_ How much more of her was he supposed to see? He turned to her, attempting to decipher if she was just trying to argue with him more and he was certain he had had his fill of that. Giving his daughter a deep searching look as if trying one last time to know what had happened to her in that garden, he put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, knowing he was never going to win this battle with her. Christian knew that what his daughter needed most was her mother and a chance to calm down and she would never be able to do that with him standing there accusing her.

"I suppose not, my daughter." He finally said to her

Sophia felt it. In her hands, a small blue bottle with a strange liquid that she could feel through the glass and deep into the marrow of her bones. Belle had turned to look at her husband who was looking at his daughter and not really at her hands. They did not see her uncork the small bottle. In a flash of movement that seemed unreal, the liquid was thrust forward and at such a close range to the man in front of her that it hit him in the eyes with dead accuracy.

Everyone seemed to stop breathing. What had just happened? Did Sophia just throw water into her father's face? It was the strangest thing anyone had ever seen. It didn't make one bit of sense.

Christian called out in pain as the strange blue liquid hit his eyes with force.

Belle instantly jumped forwards. "Sophia, what was that? Where did you get that?"

No one had even seen her holding a small blue bottle and so it wasn't something they had expected her to do. Belle stepped in front of Christian and snatched the bottle out of Sophia's hand. Except what was more bewildering then the fact that she had thrown the liquid at all was that Sophia looked more shocked by her actions then the rest of the people in the room. All could see that she had done something, but it seemed so out of her character to just randomly throw some strange liquid into her father's face without some reason behind it.

Lumiere took a step forward to help Christian wash the substance out of his eyes when something more peculiar then anything else that had happened that night occurred.

It started small; Christian took a stumbling step backwards and just barely caught himself from falling to the ground. Belle was trying to regain her daughter's attention and examine the bottle at the same time.

"Sophia, what is going on? What is this thing?" Her voice was sharp and she did not hear her husband utter her name at first.

"Belle?" he whispered softly "Belle?"

His voice had an edge to it that no one had ever heard before.

"What is it Christian?" She finally replied whirling around to face him. For a moment he didn't say anything and it dawned on her before it dawned on anyone else that he was not facing _her_ in return.

"Belle? I can't… I can't see! Belle? I can't bloody see!!"

Fear gripped her heart as she whirled around again to face her daughter who now had taken a few steps back herself. She felt shock grip her throat and cut off her airways. The spell was supposed to make him see her not blind him! She held her hands around her stomach and was looking at her father in panic as he straitened his body ridged as a board.

"Sophia! What have you done?" Belle cried.

The only people inside the room at the time were the heads of house, a spattering of night servants, Sophia's ladies-in-waiting, and Lamont and Armand. Most were not aware of what both Cogsworth and Lumiere had noticed at precisely the same time. They had been standing close to Christian the entire length of his argument with his daughter but had stayed on the outside of it as much as they could. It had been Cogsworth who had nudged Lumiere and Lumiere in turn had grabbed a hold of Belle's arm to silence her from her shouts at Sophia. Belle whirled around once again to find Lumiere looking at her strait in the eye. Very few times had Belle seen this man afraid. He was very carefree and she loved that about him but when he was frightened she knew that something was really wrong.

"What?" she asked, wondering if she even wanted to know.

Cogsworth spoke "Mistress, look!"

And as Belle turned she realized what was happening and knew that there was very much cause to be frightened indeed. A shadow was creeping in under the shut doors, between the cracks in the walls and underneath surfaces of every kind. It was traveling up the walls and underneath their feet. The lights in the candle sticks became dim as if in compliance with the black shape that was now traveling up to the ceiling and encasing the little group in a magic that most had wished they would never see again. Its arms reached across the door and dissolved the golden handles and as it did so they melted and burned until they had reshaped themselves to form grotesque figures. The gilded mirrors on both sides of the chamber were at once encased in the shadow and then suddenly erupted and shattered. Broken glass cascaded down upon the inhabitants of the room and Christian, who could only hear the sound, knew what it must mean. Jumping back he rammed himself into the arms of a statue that only moments before had depicted Cupid and Psyche. Now it had changed its form and became a replica of Cerberus to guard the entrance to the castle that now resembled the tomb it once had been.

Belle was gazing around the room as one by one all the objects inside that had reflected beauty and elegance transformed themselves into distorted creations of a spell that were remnants of a nightmare she had never forgotten. Everything familiar in its misshapen counterpart, she watched as the castle rearranged herself to house a monster of legend. A monster she knew very well.

"God help us." she whispered as she forced her mind to realize what must be coming next.

Christian had no doubts in his mind what this must mean, long before anyone voiced the idea of what could possibly be happening. The noise inside the room was scuttled and then deathly silent.

He felt the magic deep inside his bowels and knew, as he had known when he was merely twelve years old, that he had no power in this world or the worlds to come to stop it from happening. He reached out his hands to steady himself against the three-headed monster that was keeping him erect. He knew that regardless of whether he could see or not, his advisors would hear him; they would hear him and help him through the darkness.

"Cogsworth!" he cried out, hoping they could see, while he could not. "Cogsworth, please! Get them out! Please!"

He didn't have to be told if his request was being obeyed. His hearing was becoming so keen as the seconds past, waiting for the change to occur that he could distinguish his advisor's breathing. Both Lumiere and Cogsworth and heard him and both rushed across the room to Belle and Sophia. Lumiere immediately, wasting no time with propriety, scooped Sophia into his arms and ran pell-mell out of the room. She was sobbing and begging him to explain to her what was going on. Snatching the coat off the floor he implored her to put it on. Then reaching the door he took only one look behind him towards his master.

"Mon Dieu" he whispered.

Then turning his back on the scene he began to run down the hall with strength of a much younger man. Cogsworth on the other hand, did not have Lumiere's strength and Belle was not going without a fight.

"NO! Christian, I won't leave you! I-" She was twisting herself out of Cogsworth' hands as she attempted to make a break for her husband. "—won't leave you!! Christian!!"

Cogsworth had finally gotten his arms around her waist and began to drag her out of the room. Like Christian, he agreed that she should not be present to see this. Calling out with all the strength she had left she sobbed his name as she watched him grasp the statue for dear life and knew that he could not see her. For if he had, if he could have seen the pain and desperate need to stay with him, he wouldn't have been able to send her away.

"Belle…." He whispered as he heard the doors slam.

Lumiere was back and he knew that Cogsworth wouldn't be far behind, once he was certain that Belle was safe. Christian could hear distant sounds of other feet trampling to get out, or close some door or window in an attempt to do something proactive in their terror.

Then it happened. As like before it was the sensation of an animal crawling its way out of his throat. He tried to stand upright, tried to hold himself up as long as possible. He could feel his organs and his stomach twist and turn painfully as they made room for new ones to grow out of the magic inside him. His pathetic human body began to melt away his vitals as if someone were pouring liquid fire into his gut. They burned and charred and then rose up into his throat. Coughing for only a second he tipped forward and began to vomit blood onto the marble floor around him. Faintly he could hear footsteps again and thought he felt a hand brush his skin. It was a searing agony and he called out weakly, unable to feel his throat anymore. His palms and knees were planted firmly on the ground so that he wouldn't have to lay flat on his churning stomach. Suddenly there was a bending snap and his knees broke towards the complete opposite direction. He fell onto the floor with a sickening thud as his body twisted itself into a structure that no human should be able to withstand. As his entire form started to expand at a rapid rate his clothing began to tear and shred and he clawed at his chest for air. His silk shoes, not meant to stretch, were so painfully tight that he kicked and writhed until finally his back paws became large enough that the soft green slippers shredded into a mutilated pile of fabric as well.

To all in the room the scene was more horrific then they could have ever remembered. Christian gave a slight twist on his torso and a terrible noise echoed around the room. His spine having snapped in two now began to pop down each joint. His back became a disfigured mass as the bones wrenched out of the skin stretching and expanding. He arched up into the shape of a bent animal almost four times his real size. Then the bones shoved themselves forward until they were ripping out of the end of his backbone into a long spindly tail. Out of his hands and feet nails sprouted and bled as the hard, poisonous substance forced its way out of his fleshy fingers and toes to show pointy jagged claws. He tried to force his voice to work; brain screaming at him to call for help. Though his mouth was already wide open with the sheer torture of his body's transformation he could only choke on his own blood as he tried to force out words, any words to implore the pain to cease.

His clothing gone and his entire body exposed, it told an awful tale of just how painful this could actually be. In a howl that could bring Hell itself to her knees Christian opened his mouth and cried out in pure misery as horns broke through his skull and continued on till they were protruding several inches out of his forehead. He clawed at his face in retched agony with his newly grown talons ripping into his mouth. It elongated and broke to make room for his snout giving him a look nothing short of monstrous. His teeth crunched and cracked until he had fangs as long as his claws. He tried to suck in air as his skin began to bubble and burn red. Hair growing much more rapidly then it ever should have and it stretched along his extended torso, growing and unfurling all the way down to his paws. Fur raced up his chest and all across his face, growing down his neck until his mane touched the small of his hunched back.

For a moment Christian let his eyes draw open. There was a paw close to his nose and he focused on it through the agony as all the little nerves in his eyes grew and rearranged themselves to make every hair visible and clear. He knew immediately that despite his brains refusal to believe the truth that ugly paw was his own. As slow as the centuries the searing pain began to dissipate and numbness immediately set it. The light was so harsh it nearly blinded him and every movement, every breath that the people around him took, was agony on his sensitive ears. Letting out a soft moan he took in his first breath of cold air. Then without so much as a thought to what this must mean, let the darkness consume him.

And the man, Christian, knew no more.


	14. Picking up the Peices

_Authors note: Alright, I'm adding a little humor to the mix. There's a little more magic in this one that give this particular spell more originality instead of just copying what Disney did. Take note that Mrs. Potts had allot more children then Chip. I just gave them personalities.  
Other then that this is pretty self explanatory._

_**NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE (January 23, 2010): Barely any changes for this one. Grammar errors and what have you. Yeah!**_

**Chapter Fourteen: Picking Up the Pieces**

It was darker then anyone could ever remember. All the light seemed to have escaped as Christian had lost consciousness. Cogsworth grappled around in the dark for something to keep him from falling, fearing that the moment he touched anything it would confirm his worst nightmare.

"Lumiere?" he whispered loudly.

"Cogsworth?" Came the startled reply and Cogsworth realized that Lumiere couldn't be more then ten or fifteen steps away from him. "Where are you?"

"How would I know, I cannot see in the dark Lumiere!" he replied, agitated.

"Cogsworth, tell me, do you 'ave feet?"

"I beg your pardon?" he replied wondering the very same thing.

"Wave your 'ands Cogsworth, Are your fingers in place?"

"Yes, they are in place, you imbecile." Then more sarcastically "Now tell _me_, are your ears wax?"

"Actually, non." Replied his voice, sounding overjoyed. "Jour heureux!"

"Good" Cogsworth replied with only a hint of bewilderment in his voice. If they were the same then why had everything else changed?

"Come Lumiere, we must find some light so we might help the master."

"Consenti" he replied.

And very carefully they tried to make their way towards each other. After only a few steps though, Cogsworth felt his foot connect on something soft and then a mad yowl echoed around the silent room. Petrified that he had just stepped on his master he jumped back in alarm and barreled right into Lumiere who, unprepared for Cogsworth' weight, fell to the ground. They landed with a thump on the floor and Cogsworth rolled over away from Lumiere, who had just had the wind knocked clear out of him.

"Cogsworth! Would you please try to not step on my hands!" It was Armand and he sounded like he was ready to bite the head off a moose.

"Armand? Lamont? What are you doing on the floor?"

"Well after that fine show we just thought we would tuck down here for a spot of tea"

Armand always was the more sarcastic of the two.

"Don't get smart with me young man!" Cogsworth grasped the air in front of him trying to find the source of the voice. "Or I'll box your ears!"

"If you can find them, you fat oaf!" Lamont muttered from the ground.

"Oh, if poor Mrs. Potts could 'ear you boys…" Lumiere said, glad for the dark so that Cogsworth could not see the sly smile on his face. "But please, what are you doing down zere?"

"We're trying to light a candle but it won't light! Damn piece of--"

"Oh for goodness sake watch your mouth!" Cogsworth shouted and again large echoes reverberated off the walls.

" 'And it 'ere" Lumiere held out his hand and after a moment of swinging the candlestick and the flint around it finally connected with the French man's palm.

It didn't take more then one strike and the thing was lit. But rather then just give them a little pool of light to see by the whole hall suddenly erupted into illumination. It wasn't exactly radiant as the darkness of the décor deterred it a bit, but it was bright enough that you could make out details on the wall, as if it were midday.

"Amazing, old chap!" Armand said from his position on the floor. "You'll really have to teach me that trick someday."

And with that he was to his feet and had snatched the candle out of Lumiere's hand. Without even a pause the whole hall was plunged into darkness again. Cogsworth let out an impatient sigh.

"Lumiere! Would you please get us some light before the master bleeds to death on the floor!"

" I'll 'old it boys.." And just as Armand set the candle back into his outstretched hand the hall suddenly became bright again. The flame burst into being without the use of a flint and Lumiere's look of shock was lit up brightly.

"Well, zat is interesting.." He said.

"Good gracious. Do you think it is part of the spell?"

Lumiere looked from the candlestick to Cogsworth and then said "Cogsworth, what time is it?"

"Its two forty-three and nine seconds. But really Lumiere how did you…." He trailed off and then looked around to see that there were no clocks on the walls.

"How did I know that?" Cogsworth held his hands up to his mouth and looked to Lumiere in surprise.

"I defiantly zink zat it is part of ze spell."

"Well this is bloody brilliant!" Lamont exclaimed "Do you think I could pour tea out of my ears?"

Lumiere gave him a weary look "Well if you can, I'd razzer not partake if it's all ze same."

Lamont chuckled and turned to his brother "What about Chip? Do you think he has been affected by the spell? Perhaps we should write him and ask."

Armand was feeling deeply disturbed by the whole idea. "Oh that will be a lovely correspondence. _'Dear Christophe, How is the weather in England? By the way, have you been pissing tea lately, because we think we know why…_' I'm sure he'll find it charming."

"Boys, please!" Cogsworth didn't much like the idea of how the spell was working either. Though he had to be grateful that he didn't have a pendulum hanging from his neck.

"Cogsworth, come and see." While the boys had been talking, and Cogsworth was coming to grips with his newfound abilities, Lumiere had come over to where Christian was laying. Cogsworth made his way over as well and had with the greatest of care they attempted to roll the beast over on to his back. His head rolled to the side and his eyes fluttered underneath their lids, but he remained unconscious.

" 'Ow are we going to move 'im?"

Interestingly enough, Armand had an answer for that. "We could make a litter of some sort. It will take a few men but if we could get him onto it we could carry him up the stairs without having him jostled around too much."

"Should we take him to his room?"

"Non, 'ze west wing will be safer. Its furzer, but he would feel better if he were in 'is own space."

Cogsworth nodded "Consenti"

Wilhelm was exhausted. That spell had felt like a kick in the gut and he had not been prepared for the repercussions of doing magic like that. Not that it had been very hard.

It would have been impossible for him to recreate the spell himself. Not to mention he really wasn't interested in teaching any sort of life lessons to the king of France so it made it far easier to_ channel_ the magic. The Enchantress was sloppy. She had left enough remnants of the original spell inside of Christian that all he had to do was call them out. Though it had been mildly surprising when Sophia had been deprived of all her clothes. It seemed odd but he had to admit that it had been extremely entertaining watching her cower in fear like that. It really was a pity she was so ignorant. Wilhelm would have liked to have fun with that one.

He knew the spell was in place and that he must hide and rejuvenate his powers where Aislin could not find him. He dared hope that once she found out about his underhanded work, the spell would have already run its course and Christian would be dead. And once he was dead the magic that Aislin housed inside his body would be ripe for the taking. Once he had that, the Enchantress would not be able to stop him.

He let out a sigh of pleasure as he made preparations to sleep away the time that must pass for his plan to come about. The spell would start off directly where it left off the last time Christian had been cursed. Bringing with it angry villagers and everything. He almost hoped that Sophia would survive this; he _had_ found her human body rather appealing. Smiling to himself he sank deeper into the darkness, reminded of her screams of terror as he drifted off into his deep slumber

The West wing was seven flights of stairs up. It had not been used in years and was forbidden to enter unless upon Christian's orders. He stored much of his old things there, including a small box that held all the rose petals from his beautiful rose that had caused all the trouble in the first place. Once Cogsworth and Lumiere were sure that he was breathing and that he would be alright if left alone, they ventured out into the castle to begin cleaning up. They sent Armand and Lamont off to bed and thanked them for their excellent help.

Unfortunately the castle was no longer the same as it had been in the last seventeen years. It had arranged itself back to the form it had taken during the original spell and neither of the men could remember exactly where to go. Broken mirror shards covered the floors of the hallways and everything was decorated with gargoyles and gruesome sentinels to remind the castle of the curse that had only been waiting to be awakened once more.

After several hours of talk and a great deal of searching they placated everyone's fears and returned to the staff quarters for a change of clothes to start the day afresh. They had no time for sleep, especially not in this crisis. Lumiere had not spoken to his wife since the incident. To Cogsworth chagrin he had to wait for a few moments while they embraced, until his patience ran out and Babette was sent off to look after Belle.

For a while they debated on what action should be taken next. The servants were all in good health, though some seemed to be manifesting powers that made them far more efficient to their work then they had previously displayed. In every room Lumiere went the candles burned a little brighter and Cogsworth seemed to always know what time it was. So at exactly five fifty-seven in the afternoon they approached the nursery where they had been informed Belle had been holing up inside.

Pushing the door open they found her sitting on a small chair with her son Paris in her lap, smiling as he told her some story of his imaginary adventures outside the castle. When she looked up to see Lumiere and Cogsworth standing inside the door, the smile faded from her lips as if it had been stolen from her by a very clumsy thief. She set her son back on the ground and watched him toddle off to join his brother. Then slowly she approached her dearest friends.

She was an absolute mess. Not having come close to changing her clothes she was still wearing the evening gown from the previous night. Her eyes were so swollen and red that they were almost closed shut; her hair was a limp mass of tangles and knots. But there was something on her face that gave the advisors calm. She was not hysterical, nor was she throwing herself on them. She seemed almost serene as she came to them and with pleading in her eyes and said, "How is he?"

Both looked down on her and then led her over to the bench to sit on either side of her.

"He is alive, my queen." Cogsworth did not know what else to say. She nodded to let him know she had heard him.

"And is Sophia alright?"

"She is safe, milady. Celestine 'as been wiz 'er all night and day. She was even persuaded to eat a little. Zough I must tell you she has been asking for you all day."

Belle again nodded and looked down at her hands. "I know, but I'm not ready to face her. I need him there with me. He is the only one who has the right to explain this to her."

Cogsworth laid a hand on her slender arm and gave her a grave look.

"Belle that is what I'm worried about. We saw what this spell has done to his body, but….but I worry about what it has done to his mind. This might have broken him."

Belle implored his eyes for any kind of assistance they might offer her. She had thought about these things the whole night through and long into the day while she had sat hiding in this nursery. What was going to happen to them?

"Ma petit rose" Lumiere whispered, pulling the hair away from Belles face. He had a distinct memory of a beautiful nineteen-year-old girl, coming to this castle, in this very forest where the stones now lay. Sacrificing her life for all the inhabitants inside, whether she had known it then or not.

"If zere is anyone in zis castle who can save us it is you."

She looked to him, like a child pleading her father for guidance. "I guess I have never understood how you two could have so much faith in me. You've never once faltered on that."

A small tear began to crawl down her already tearstained face. Cogsworth pulled out a handkerchief and wiped it away softly. "You were destined to love him and we knew that the moment we laid eyes on you." Cogsworth said with a small smile on his lips. He was not a very sentimental man but when it came to Belle, everyone seemed to have a soft spot for her.

She smiled back "You know I love you. Right?"

"Oui, milady"

She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on both their cheeks and then stood up to face the challenges that awaited her. She was not afraid, nor was she unprepared. She knew these men would take care of her children. She knew that she was loved, and so there was nothing that could stop her as she walked towards the door.

"Belle?" Lumiere's voice called to her. She turned to look at him and after a few moments he finally said

"Take care of our prince for us. We love 'im more zen 'ee knows."

"I promise" she whispered and without another word, swept down the hall.


	15. Her Hero

_Authors Notes: Here is a bit a song that was the reason for writing this chapter. This chapter was really the reason for me to write this story.  
__**"Love of a Woman" By Travis Tritt  
A man goes crazy trying to catch his feelings  
Too much pride or maybe the words come out wrong  
But that's okay 'cause he's still her hero  
Steady as a rock, her love keeps rolling along**_

_**Where would we be without the love of a woman  
Standing behind her man even when he's wrong  
The true pure undying love of a woman  
Makes a man a fool to think he can make it alone**_

_**NEW AUTHOR'S NOTE (January 23, 2010) Okay… Obviously this was the spot I stopped writing for a while and after re-reading it… I still love it. Still my favorite chapter to date. I did however change some of the dialogue towards the end. I wanted a little less fluff to counterbalance some of the sweetness. Nothing too drastic I just like it allot better. If you can't tell the difference that's okay too. It's still a good chapter.**_

**Chapter Fifteen: Her Hero**

It seemed like a much longer walk from the nursery to her living quarters then usual. She couldn't decide what she wanted to do with her hands. First she would fold them, then she would fold her arms. When she finally decided to just let them lay at her side she was already there.

She sighed with relief when she saw that the rooms were empty and after locking the door behind her, went to the fire to warm herself despite the heat of the evening.

She took her time to undress, allowing the green fabric to slide slowly off her shoulders and down her arms. It crumpled to the floor and she stepped out of it with ease. Doing so had the effect of letting everything that had happened slip off her body and be pushed out of her mind to leave room for the feelings of hope and love that had only been waiting for her to call on them.

Too long had she stood by and allowed her family to tear themselves apart. Far too long had she felt her husband's pain and confusion and turned away because of pride that she had built up around her like a citadel. At that very moment, Belle made the choice to be free of it. The decision crashed into the stones of her walls and broke them apart and for the first time in a long time she could finally see what was in front of her. She loved her life, absolutely loved it. Everything her husband had given her had been what she had been missing in her life growing up. But somehow along the way she had lost a piece of it. She felt it's absence keenly now as it beat itself against from the inside. She was finally beginning to realize what it was.

Her fancy gowns and expensive jewelry were worthless. The extravagant hours spent on her hair and her face and whatever else you could imagine really didn't mean a thing. She had forgotten that when she had first come here. Having been so afraid that she was too simple for her royal husband she had forgotten that these ridiculous extravagances had really only been a very effective tool in driving them apart. Just as much as his purposeful separation between himself and his family.

With skilled hands she removed her own corset and let it drop down with the discarded gown then walked over to her vanity to finally get a good look at herself. It really was atrocious. Grabbing a brush she pulled it through her hair forcefully and after only about five minutes, it was glowing and shining. Then without even a thought for how childish it would look she wrapped a ribbon around the back and tied it into a bow to keep it away from her face. As an afterthought she quickly powdered her cheeks and eyes just enough to try and mask the deep red splotchy color. With a soft sign she walked away from her vanity and to her closet.

Taking out a dress, she quickly clothed herself and had a good lookdown in the mirror. It was the least extravagant thing she owned. Simple and plain, the dress was the one she used to garden in on the days when Christian would invite her to join him in pruning the roses. She had worn it so infrequently in the last few years that she had almost forgotten she owned it, but was glad for its presence now. She felt stronger wrapped around in its uncomplicated threads.

By the time she was finished, night had already fallen and the castle was quiet. She peeked outside of her door to see that there wasn't a soul passing through the corridors, but she still had six flights of stairs to ascend, and there was the possibility that she could get hopelessly lost in her own castle. She wasn't sure if she could remember exactly where the west wing was when the spell was in place. Of course the more obvious thing to do would be to head in the west direction and keep climbing until she could recognize where she was. Which is exactly what she did.

The corridors were almost completely dark as she neared the hall that would lead her to the west wing. But as she traveled further her feet seemed to take over what her mind could not remember. She began to recognize things that she had long ago allowed to fade. There were times, when she would pass a broken mirror or a glittering surface and she almost thought she could see herself inside them. A young girl in a tatty blue dress, frightened but continuing on anyways. Because that girl knew what Belle was already starting to remember; sometimes things are frightening and sometimes things are hard, but you have to try anyways. Sometimes you just have to keep going, despite the darkness.

It came almost too quickly for her when she finally realized that she was standing outside the doors of her husband's old room. It was exactly the way she had remembered it, perhaps cleaner from when Christian had lived there, but it still held the same foreboding it always had. With a small smile on her lips of the memory, she grasped the horn of the gruesome face that served as a doorknocker and stepped inside with only the sound of her bare feet brushing the cold stone floor.

She stood in the doorway as it leaned against her small frame. She could see the light streaming in behind her from the few candles that were lit a ways down the corridor but other then that the room was so dark, the blackness seemed to twist itself around her, as the shadow of the spell had done when it had retransformed the castle.

She swallowed hard to keep the fear from her face and calmly told herself that it was only the dark. When she had been a little girl she had been terrified of the dark, refusing to leave the house after sunset. Finally her father had taken her on his knee and had told her that it wasn't the darkness she was afraid of, but what could be inside the dark. It hadn't been until she was nineteen that she had realized the truth of the matter. Coming out of the dark had been a monster of mass proportion. One who could walk and talk like a man. But soon she realized that it was also one who could love and hurt like a man as well and she had learned that nothing could hurt her in the dark as long as Christian was with her.

And fortunately for her, he was with her now. Whether he liked it or not.

Letting the door close softly behind her she watched as the black swirled around her and left her standing completely blind inside the main room of the west wing. For a moment it was so silent that she wondered if she had gone deaf too, but a noise barely louder then a whisper caught her attention. As if trying to keep out of sight it had shifted its position and moved deeper into the shadows.

She squinted her eyes and made a few more steps into the fathomless dark. After several agonizing moments she could make out that there were a few black spots that were darker then others. She could make out another doorway that led to a bedroom, the size of all her stay rooms combined. She remembered that the bed was big enough to hold two large families but had never been enough room for Christian. He had once told her that ten generations of the men in his family had lived in the west wing and once the spell was broken he had insisted that he move out. At first they had both stayed in her old rooms inside the east wing and then finally to the rooms they occupied now. Still, she could remember the marvel she had felt at the vast space these rooms had to offer.

After another few moments she could see that the door to the balcony stood directly in front of her half the room away. It was hidden by drawn curtains and she knew that it had been Cogsworth who had drawn them. It wouldn't have been much, but at least she could have used the moonlight to make her way through the darkness.

Again she heard a movement, much further to the right of her. A soft scraping sound and then it went quiet again. She turned to where she had heard it and tried to see if she could make out his shape. Finally after a huge struggle with herself about what to say and do she finally whispered, soft enough to give the silence room to adjust.

"Christian? Christian, I know you're there."

There it was again, only this time he seemed to have given up the pretense of nonexistence and moved through the room so quickly that it resembled a bear lumbering through the forest. She knew he was no longer to the right of her, but somewhere, deep inside the room, possibly even inside one of the side rooms. Though she thought that unlikely. Christian would want to keep her in sight, almost as an animal watching its prey. She felt a stab of inequality that he could see her as plainly as if she were pooled in light, but she was having trouble just making out the region of the room he might be in by the sound of his moving paws.

Then his voice came out of the darkness so unexpectedly that she felt little shoots of fear travel up and down her body.

"Get out!"

It wasn't more then a rumbling growl and the voice so foreign, there was nothing to compare it to. She turned her head in the direction she had heard him and said clear enough that he would not misunderstand her.

"Never going to happen."

Belle had lived with Christian for such a long time that it wasn't hard for her to detect his moods long before he said anything. And she always knew when she had made him angry. This was one of those times. There was a pregnant pause and then he said much more forcefully.

"Belle, get out!"

"There is nothing that you could ever say to me that could make me leave this room. If you want me gone, you're going to have to come out and face me, Christian!"

She felt, just as much as heard him growl. She knew he couldn't control it; most of the noises he made were instinctual. But that still didn't stop the hairs on her neck from prickling.

"Don't call me that!" No matter how he tried to use his voice, it always sounded harsh and thunderous.

Her anger was flaring up. She hated this side of him. It was childish and she thought he had grown out of it, regardless of what was happening to him now.

"What? Your name? I'm not allowed to call you by your name now?"

"I don't have a name." Despite the animalistic rumble she could hear the bitterness and despair in his words.

"Oh for heavens sake!" she cried out, her temper was lost. She threw up her hands and charged at where she knew the balcony doors must be. Trying her best not to stumble on the dais she grasped out at the curtains and thrust them open with all the strength she could muster. The room was flooded with moonlight and it was like being washed of something unclean.

She looked out onto the balcony and wished she hadn't. The trees that surrounded the castle told her of where they must be and through the railings of it she could see that she stood directly over the vast cliff that the castle adorned. She turned around just in time to see her husband-turned-beast literally scamper away from where the starlight cascaded into the room. She could finally see around her and was surprised to find that the place had remained as clean and neat as it was before this spell was put back into place. She took several steps back into the room, finally able to see where she was going. It was still dark but now there was enough light to put Christian in total silhouette. For a moment she swore she could even see the glitter of his eyes as he crouched down into he shadows and glared at her with anger and frustration.

"Why are you doing this?" he cried out, trying still harder to keep her from seeing him.

"Why am I doing this?" she felt her voice rise to a pitch she couldn't even recognize

"My God, Christian, if you hadn't ordered Cogsworth to drag me away, I never would have left you! I'm not letting you do that again! I am going to stay right here and there is nothing you can do to change my mind!!"

Her voice was close to shouting, but not quite. She was doing her utmost best to remain reasonable. He had been through more then she knew, but hiding in the shadows was the last balm he needed to soothe these wounds.

"Belle….please" and to her surprise the anger had fled his voice. He now sounded desperate and lost. "Please go…. Please…. Just leave me…."

She couldn't bare it. The vulnerable abandon in his voice was grating and painful. She hated it and she was determined to fight it.

"Christian, I don't know by what power in heaven or hell that has done this to you but I won't let you give up like this. I may not be able to persuade you as your wife but as the woman who broke this spell once I demand to see your face right now!! Do you hear me?!! RIGHT NOW!!!!"

She hadn't realized that she could scream like that. It came as a total shock to her. She threw down her hands and even gave a small stomp in the direction she knew he was crouching. Her bare foot slapped the floor and for a moment he was actually startled out of his self-pity.

It had been a long time since he had felt this way. The hopelessness was like a disease that attacked his mind and heart and eclipsed all the good feelings he had ever felt. It made him feel the nothingness that his life already held. All the pain and loneliness of ten years was seeping into him, and with it came the unrestraint of his emotions. He did nothing to hide his anger at what his wife was saying to him. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to curl up on the carpet and allow the darkness to take him away. It wasn't just the spell that had brought this out of him. It was the shameful thought that it was his daughter, his beautiful baby girl, who had done this to him. He let the hurt and fury burn him deep inside and before he knew what he was doing he launched himself across the furniture he had been using to block his hulking form. Right into the light that the moon shone through the doors from the balcony.

He hit the floor with an eerie silence, his colossal body curled into a steep bow on all fours only about three feet away from where Belle was standing. Then slowly, ever so slowly he began to raise himself from the floor. Lifting onto his hind legs he straitened his aching back and arms so that he now towered so high over her that she had to bend her neck up to take in his full appearance. And she couldn't hide it; she felt a deep sense of alarm at what her husband had become. It didn't help that half of his altered face was cast in shadow.

"Is this what you want to see?! Is this why you came here? To pity me??! To help me through this?!!" He paused for a moment stumbling over his words. "You're wasting your time! There is nothing you could say or do that will change this!"

He passed a paw over his eyes as if to block out the look of apprehension on her delicate features. For just a moment darkness came into his familiar blue eyes that almost seemed like he was going to lash out at her, then his voice dropped to a deep rumble that was almost incomprehensible as words.

"I am a beast. Leave me be."

With finality in his voice he turned his back on her, tail swishing in irritation. Her arm shot out and her fingers caressed his shoulder. He stopped in mid stride as if she had bashed a rock across his head. He jerked away from her and made as if to ignore her touch when she finally spoke again

"Wait…."

Again he stopped, unsure why. He wanted to escape the garish look of her. She was too bright, too beautiful and he couldn't bring himself to admit that she could actually help. Deep down, he believed that this was what he deserved. He had earned this a long time ago.

"Please, look at me…"

It was a strange moment for him. There was something in her voice he was sure he had never heard before and yet it was familiar. A desperate pleading that called to him from across the distance between them. He could deny her nothing, not when she spoke like that. No matter the sorrow it would undoubtedly cause him. He turned to her and allowed her to look right into his face. The moonlight was shining brighter every minute and it illuminated his animalistic features with astounding clarity.

Belle breathed slowly trying to take him in and then tentatively as if unsure of what would happen, but daring to try anyways, stepped closer to him. Reaching up gently, daring to hope he would not pull away from her she placed a soft hand on his cheek. Bending his neck down he looked at her unable to breath. Tenderly she curled her fingers around his fur and reaching even further, caressing the hair around his brow. Slowly stroking his temple and down to his chin where she stopped and allowed a soft smile to pull at the corners of her mouth.

Exhaling slowly she whispered "Oh…..my beast….."

A shiver ran up and down Christian's back and he blinked in confusion at her reaction.

"You forget Christian, that this was the face of a very dear friend to me. This was the face that…. that died for me…. Please don't take him away from. Please tell me I haven't lost him."

Christian took a step back and was bathed in shadow again. He felt a lump wedge itself into his throat and shook his mane roughly. He couldn't bear to listen to her anymore, he just couldn't.

"Belle, please don't do this."

She watched him turn from her once again and knew that she needed to say whatever needed to be said soon or she would lose him.

"Christian, I can't imagine how you must be hurting. I can't even come near it. You must let someone help you. Please, don't go where I cannot find you again."

He stumbled a moment as he took another step into the darkness that would fence him away from the rest of humanity. Humanity that he believed he did not belong. Where he believed he would never belong.

"Belle…" he whispered, feeling like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

He wasn't ready to let her in again. He wasn't, but something childlike; something innocent inside him that could see that she was what he needed wrenched the words from his heart to his mouth.

"I cannot do this again! I cannot! I…..I…" But they wouldn't come. He choked on them as he tried to swallow the howl of pain that would bring him to his knees in a torment that was all his future held for him.

Tears began to streak down her cheeks as she watched him step backwards and then hang his head in shameful agony.

"You are right. You cannot do this….you cannot do this alone." She spread out her arms in supplication of her lover, her best friend, and her hero "Christian, Come back to me. My love, come back to me. I want you, I want you with me."

He had never felt so lost, so dark and alone. It's much easier to lose nothing. It was the memory of a young girl holding him lovingly in the darkness, whispering her love that he couldn't even begin to hold onto. It was so large that to this day he still could not understand it. _How_ could she love him that much? How could she feel those feelings of burning adoration for someone….like him?

"WHY?" he called out feeling his heart break at the mere memory of his beloved wife, and how he had never deserved her.

Belle stood so still that she almost seemed lifeless. Her arms were stretched out to a figure she could no longer see. Her heart beating so fast that she was sure it would never slow down again. Her hero, the man who died for her, the man she would give up her own life for, was asking her why. Except that Belle understood why and with tenderness she finally said, her voice trembling.

"Because I need you."

Exhaling deeply Christian finally allowed himself to let go. With a soft whine his legs crumbled beneath him he felt like for the first time in his life he had heard something true, something real.

If there was anyone in the world that was strong it was he. In whatever shape, whatever lifetime he was living he had done nothing but dedicate everything he had and was to holding up the world. And yet the sob that was heard in the darkness was that of a child. A child who needed her love.

"You need me?"

"I need you."

Letting go of all that no longer seemed to matter, he held out his arms and she ran to him without hesitation. Wrapping his long fur-covered paws around her, he finally gave in to the compassion he had tried so hard to suppress and hide from. He cried until her dress was wet all down its bodice and allowed the sobs to wrack his body without even trying to control the motion. He buried his forehead and eyes deep into her breast and wept for all the things he knew he had taken for granted in his love of this woman. He wept with sincerity and a humanity that he had not known he was capable of.

"I need you too." he whispered as he felt her hold him tightly around his neck.

Her hands tangled around his long mane. Leaning between his horns she began to kiss his head and the spots where his hairline might have been. She was weeping as well and her tears splashed into his fur and tickled his skin. He allowed her to stroke him until the storm began to subside and his tears were merely soft hiccupping sighs that he could not control.

Belle held her lover tightly against her. She had a feeling that she could not let him go even if she had wanted to. And she never would. It could easily have been centuries that they sat there on the floor. He was so much larger then her and she felt beyond safe as his form surrounded her and held her to him. Buried deep inside his fur she had never known that she could feel this way about him, in whatever form he was. Never known the kind of love that she was feeling at this very moment and was terrified of it ending.

Everything from his eyes to his tail was precious to her. He was her husband. Vulnerable and priceless he sat there, stripped of all the things that had held him back. It was interesting to her, as she examined him for a moment, that she was keenly aware of exactly how uncovered he really was. Exposed to her in any way you could imagine and she found that she had never cared less in her life. Wrapping herself up in his arms he held her like a child, cradled so near, so intimate.

"I am so sorry Belle…" he finally said, his voice becoming familiar and real and she didn't even need to look up at his face to know that is was him.

She could feel him trembling and wished to sooth him more, but knew that he needed to speak the things that were hurting him. It was the only way for him to begin to heal.

"I wish…. I wish I had died! God, I'm so sorry!"

"Oh Christian…."

"Belle… Don't tell me it's alright! Nothing is alright…. I hurt you and I hurt Sophia! I hurt everything I touch!"

Belle let out a breath of air and placed her hand soothingly on his cheek.

"Christian, Sophia is not hurt. She's fine."

He closed his eyes as the memories came to him as forcefully as a fist to the gut.

"I called her…a _whore_…" he rumbled, choking on the ugly word. Oh, how he hated himself.

Belle gazed out of the corner of her eye into the shadowed room.

"Yes..." she paused for a moment trying to pick her words carefully. No need to make him feel worse. Frankly he had had enough punishment for one night. "You did. But I have to say Christian, as much as I dislike it she really went too far this time."

"Do you know what happened to her? How did this happen?"

Belle shuddered at the memory. "I don't know, dear. Magic… something magic."

He took a deep breath and then looked at her with such fear in his eyes that they nearly brought tears to her once more. "Do you think… Do you think she's back? The Enchantress… Do you think she did this?"

Belle looked thoughtful for a moment. She had considered this as well.

"I don't know, Christian. I just… don't think so. It doesn't feel the same. Something's missing, something doesn't feel right to me." She paused for a moment. "I just don't think she would have done this without giving you a really good reason. If anything she's only tried to do what she thought was right by you and… this doesn't feel right."

He hung his head feeling as if he had somehow failed her more by not having an answer to what had happened.

"What are we going to do?"

She breathed in deeply and was rewarded with a scent that brought her back. He had never smelled like an animal. There was a certain odor, a smell that seemed to make up his entire being. It smelled like trees and grass; still water and tree sap. And underneath it all there was the hidden tang of wild roses. It was encompassing and she did not answer him for several moments.

"We will get you out of this, I promise you. _I _will get you out of this."

He looked to the side of her, wishing he could be as hopeful as she was. "What if you cannot?"

"I can. I won't allow any other alternative."

For the first time that night he smiled. Genuinely smiled at his wife and pressed his large forehead against hers. Closing his eyes he took a long breath and then released it.

"Oh, everything hurts Belle. I wished I wasn't so damn tired."

"You must rest now."

"I cannot. What if this wasn't real? What if I am dreaming and I close my eyes and you won't be here anymore?"

She smiled up at him "If it is a dream then I will find my way back to you. Now sleep, I am with you…. I'll always be with you."

Then she leaned over and kissed the bottom part of his lip. The fur was prickly and she felt him shiver beneath her but he did not move. She allowed her lips to linger on his until finally she leaned back and wrapped her arms around him securely. He sighed and breathed in the scent of her hair, never wanting to leave this place. He couldn't believe that heaven would be any better then being here with her.

After several moments he finally nodded knowing it could not last forever and set her down on her feet. She suddenly realized that the sun was now creeping up sky and the morning had arrived. She watched as her lover curled up onto the carpet and laid his head down on his paws. She began to make her way to the door when his voice called her back.

"Belle?"

"Yes?"

"I really am sorry… for everything. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She looked down at her hands and then back to him. "I know."

He gazed at her steadily without blinking. "What I said to you… It was unforgivable… I'm so sorry."

She looked at him tenderly and then smiled. "Christian, all you ever need to know is that I don't know how to _not _forgive you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend. Always have been, always will be."

Slowly he nodded his head and then laid his it back down. He thought that their conversation was through when _her_ voice that called him back this time.

"Christian?"

"Yes?"

"Can you forgive me for something?"

"What?"

"Please forgive me for never thanking you enough."

"For what Belle?"

"In all this time we have been hiding this from everyone. Ashamed of a past that we could not explain. But the truth is…. I'm glad you were a beast. I'm glad I met you the way I did. Christian, we've always said that I saved you and that just isn't true. The truth is… you saved me. I wouldn't have gotten very far without you. So thank you."

Christian wished he could have said something but there just wasn't anything to say. He watched as Belle opened the doors to leave, then for just a moment she turned again and looked to him, lying on the floor and said as quietly as a mouse,

"Christian?"

He looked to her without saying anything and she finally whispered,

"Happy Birthday"

Then slipped through the door and closed it softly behind her.


	16. Stained Glass

Alright... So after a very long time of thinking and changing allot about myself (not that any of you wanted to know this) I'm BACK!!

I looked here on my computer stuff and found my little story and realized that I really wanted to try and finish is. It's a part of me that needs to get onto paper.

This chapter happens directly after the last chapter I posted about Christian and all his troubles. I hope that if any of you readers are still out there that you'll give me another chance. I also hope you'll give Sophia another chance since... this chapters all about her. I think you'll find that as you follow me that I wasn't ever planning on leaving things the way they were with her and I plan to change it and allow my characters to grow (or at least I'm going to try). Not to mention she's absolutely not as bad as Jasmine (_ducks all the fiery Jasmine fans that are coming for my hide_)

This is something of a filler chapter but it's also really important and please stick with me. It's about realizing that you're never really right about anything you assume.

Normal 0

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**Chapter Sixteen: Stained Glass**

Celestine had been born in Rose castle. Her father being a prominent member of the King's council, (not to mention present at the king's birth) she had been born to privilege; at least as far as a servant goes. The reality of her life was that she never once felt a loss of life at being a servant. Her parents were very close and always seemed to be happy in their work. Celestine was keenly aware of the fact that she was blessed far more then most hired help in the entire world. She was educated right alongside the princess of France, there was always plenty to eat, clothing, and money to go around. They were never cheated and they were treated well by their employer who seemed to have a deep respect for his tenants. Her life was happy. She loved the castle. She was allowed to join her father on ambassador trips around France on occasion and she would someday be permitted to marry and would be given a bridal settlement from the King himself.  
This was all well and good except for the fact that Celestine's best friend was Sophia.

The two had always been close. Growing up with the other servant children, including Chip who was the ringleader of sorts. But after a while he grew older and could not be bothered with anymore-childish games. It was a sad time when everyone had to start growing up.

As the years drug on even Celestine could see that her King was distant from his family but only in comparison to her own. She had no idea why but with the solitude of her sovereign and his queen she also saw her princess grow more and more selfish and lost as Christian became more and more distant. He was still a good king, still loved everyone the same, but after the twins were born it seemed everyone was forced bid farewell to the Camelot they had lived in and face reality in quite a brutal fashion. Even more so for Sophia-Belle.

Celestine had never once believed in magic. Until the castle had turned itself inside out and her whole life had toppled upside down she would have laughed at you if you had told her that at one point the castle and its king was under an enchanted spell.

Under strict orders, by her father, she was to remain in the servants quarters and not step a foot outside if she wished to keep her life. Therefore she stole out of the passageway and found herself traveling down the corridors to the guard station. Coming up to an old wooden door, she looked around herself trying to determine if she was in the right place. Nothing seemed to be where it used to be and it unnerved her greatly. She lifted her arm to the door and gave three distinct taps, and then she pounded the door twice with the palm of her hand and finally kicked the bottom lightly with her foot. There was a slight scuffling inside and she knew she was in the right place.

For a moment no one answered the door and then it cracked open just barely enough for her to squeeze through. Entering the room she was tempted to laugh at its occupants. The room was a disheveled mess and had a rank smell of dirty laundry and unwashed sheets. Armand Potts was standing in the corner with his back to the wall. It had been Lamont Potts who had opened the door and as soon as she had entered, slammed it shut and locked it securely behind her. The curtains were half open and before Armand had a chance to shut them Celestine got her first good look outside the castle.

The guard station was close to the north tower and where it had once stood over the fields that lay just outside the borders of the castle now erected strait above a vast open cliff that seemed to open its mouth wider, waiting for Rose castle to fall into its fathomless depths and be swallowed right into Hell. She felt herself go a little weak and she tried to push the dark image of where they were out of her mind. It was like some deranged nightmare. How was anyone supposed to get out of the castle? Were they trapped forever on this little rock out of the middle of this vast open space till they all perished or went insane?

She took a deep breath and then shaking her head came further into the dingy little room the boys were holing up in. Lamont gave a sigh of relief at seeing her and without hesitation put his arms around her shoulders.

"Did you see anyone while you were coming?" Armand asked earnestly.

She shook her head "Non, are you ready?"

Lamont nodded his head enthusiastically eager to get out of the guard station. Armand looked a tad skeptical.

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea Celestine. If we get caught in the princess' room Christian might rip our heads off."

Lamont's smile fell and he turned to his brother. Celestine had to hold back a smile at the look of exasperation he had on his face. If it wasn't for the fact that she knew these two were blood brothers she would never have guessed they were from the same continent let alone the same family. Their personalities clashed so vividly that it was like watching the night battle the day.

"Oh come now Armand!! We have to help Sophia!"

"My dear Lamont! Do you not recall last night's rescue of the princess from the rose garden? The girl was running around naked! She must be out of her mind!"

"All ze more reazon for us to go and see 'er"

Celestine frowned at Armand's hesitancy. What was becoming of everyone these days? Only a few years ago would these two boys have found sneaking around the castle and coming to the aid of the princess a great privilege. Now he was acting like they were going to aid a fugitive. But Celestine didn't have to voice these thoughts. Lamont did it for her.

"Armand! I'm surprised at you. Sophia is like our sister. We've lived with her our whole lives. Are you really willing to abandon her now?"

Armand turned away from his brother sharply and went to the window. He opened up the curtain just enough for himself to see and looked down at the vast cliff they stood on. He was facing the bridge that led to the forest. Wolves were clearly visible at the base of the trees just outside the castle gates. When Armand finally began to speak he seemed to be unsure of his words.

"And what about the King? Are we to abandon him? You said it yourself Celestine! Sophia caused all this to happen"

He turned around and glared at his cohorts. Lamont squared his shoulders and looked at his brother with some indignation. For a moment he too was silent and then with a secretiveness that Celestine had not seen in him before came out.

"You know better then that my brother. You know that this could not have been Sophia's doing… at least not on her own. If you're really as loyal to Christian as your claiming to be you'll do what it takes to get him out of this again."

Celestine stood motionless and a little bewildered. This had been going on all day. She was so confused with all this talk about some strange explanation for what had happened to the castle and why her master was nowhere to be found. Of course none of these explanations really explained anything and merely skirted the issue till she was more confused then before. But, this was the first time she realized that Lamont and Armand might actually know something she doesn't. What were they hiding from her and Sophia that had happened here so long ago? What was this great secret that was being kept from everyone? Either way she was certain that if they stood there all night she was never going to find out.

She let out an exasperated sigh and then putting her hands on her hips she took two strides and was back at the door. When she reached the latch she turned herself about once more and stood up to her fullest height. Glaring at the two boys her face unnervingly resembled Lumiere.

"Well, Eizer way I am going. Whatever 'as 'appened 'ear I am not going to sit around and 'ide. Are you two wiz me or not?"

There was dead silence as Sophia glowered at them from her five foot four stance to their six-foot stance. Lamont looked squarely at his brother and Armand gazed at him back. His face twisted up, fighting his indecision on the matter altogether. It wasn't more then a minute though when Lamont reached out his hand to Armand and with a winning smile on his face.

"Back into the cupboard, my brother?"

For a moment Armand didn't take his hand and it almost seemed like he was going to refuse but then a small twitch pulled at the corners of his mouth and he grasped Lamont's arm roughly.

"Just in time for tea."

Sophia sat at her window seat in her room. Her cheeks were raw with crying and still she continued to sob as she sat in the dark. Her window was open to the garden just below. She could see that past the great wall that surrounded the inner castle walls was a gigantic forest that terrified her beyond anything she could remember. After she had been drug out of the great hall she had been whisked to her bedchambers and locked inside. She had cried herself to sleep on her bedroom floor and once she had awoken she found that dawn had finally cleared the night over. For a moment she had lain on the floor of her room. Her first thoughts had been to wonder where she was and what had happened.

Her body was stiff and after a quick stretch she realized that she was so sore she almost couldn't move. It wasn't until she reached her hand behind her head that she brushed her bare breasts and realized that she was still naked. It was at that moment that it all came back to her in great force. She sat up with a jerk and got to her feet causing herself to go so dizzy that she plopped down on the floor once more. Her hair scattered about her bare shoulders and brushed her back as she looked wildly around the room and tried to make sense of what happened. It wasn't a half hour later that Celestine came to her room and helped her get dressed and she even found that she could eat some of what was placed in front of her.

Now with the night coming in she hugged her soft dress tightly to her body and gazed once more out the window. She didn't even bother to wipe her nose as it ran onto her knees that were tucked close to her chest. She felt an ache in her heart that she had never felt before.

In Sophia's sixteen years she had always known that her life was singular. She was alone in this castle surrounded by everyone. She had never felt the peace of a purpose and her conclusion was that it was due to her life as a princess. In this conclusion she had come to understand for sure and without a doubt that this was what her parent's had felt before. 'There is no purpose to our existence. We are the royals and our lives have no meaning'. And for the first time in her entire life Sophia was shocked into a world that she could not even begin to recognize. In her defense Sophia was a pampered girl. She did not know life beyond the shadows of the garden walls. No world really existed that she could conceive. This could be blamed on a number of things, by her own selfishness; truly a product of her own choosing, was only fed more by the path that was laid before her without any detours or turns.

Now to her complete astonishment she was forced to even consider that she had been wrong. There was something so innately off with this whole scenario that it was finally time to stop and think. Where were the pieces that fit this all together?

A noise from the back wall of her dressing room caught her attention and for the first time in almost two hours she moved her body to try and decipher what had made the noise. She was not alarmed, only expectant as she gazed through the door to the opposite room and waited for the sound that would tell her that help was on its.

She heard a loud creek and then things went silent. For almost a whole minute nothing moved. Then with a sound only to rival an elephant, Lamont sneezed. She knew it was Lamont because only he could cause the eruption that happened afterwards.

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THE ANGELS IN HEAVEN GET OFF MY FOOT LAMONT!!!!"

The voice was magnified by almost a hundred inside the tunnel they had been traveling in. Rose Castle was more intricate and safe guarded then any military fort. The underground tunnels and secret passageways were so immense and vast that no king in the history of the castle had ever been able to draw up an accurate map.

It was the resounding slap that silenced the voice and then without warning another was heard with a disgruntled "Ow!"

"Do you want to wake up ze whole castle?"

Celestine's voice sounded more then a little irritated and Sophia was sure that this wasn't the first time she had said that. For a moment it went quiet again and then the hidden door burst open and the three people behind it came toppling out just barley into Sophia's view from her main quarters. There was a muffled shriek and a few curse words were thrown out. From the sound of it, Sophia could tell that several of her dresses had been ripped and tossed around trying the break the fall of the Potts boys and poor Celestine, who seemed to have landed on the bottom of the two.

Sophia heard the scuffle and after more then a few inappropriate insults referring to the anus of a horse, Celestine rushed out of the dressing room looking like she might be in the temperament to bite the head off a moose.

For a moment she looked wearily around and then she caught sight of Sophia sitting on her balcony seat. She gave her a look of the utmost tenderness and then walked to her friend without a word. Settling herself next to the princess Celestine pulled out a handkerchief out of her apron and began to dap at Sophia's nose and eyes.

"Oh ma Cherie…." She murmured and began to run her fingers through Sophia's hair and along her face.

It was the same as when Celestine had left; she could almost tangibly feel her dear friends fear and pain. It had been such a difficult time to sit with her for hours while Sophia sobbed in her guilt and grief begging for someone to explain to her what had happened to the castle and to her parents.

The two young men in the doorway hesitated, not sure if coming into the Princess's rooms was the right thing to do. The memory of their last encounter with Sophia had not been one they wanted to think about. It's not that Sophia hadn't been something to look at; that was just the problem. And neither of them wanted to know what Christian would do to them if it was ever found out that anyone was even THINKING about his daughter that way. Best to refrain from even one moment of fancy on the whole subject. They valued their skins more then the risk.

Celestine looked over her shoulder to see the young men and she sighed with exasperation.

" 'Onestly gentlemen do we 'ave to go zrough zis again?"

For a moment Lamont weighed his options and then he decided he was more afraid of Celestine's reactions then of the impropriety of being caught inside the princesses stay rooms. He crossed the room to stand a few paces away from the girls and Armand for once did not argue but merely followed behind his brother. No point in fighting it, he'd already surrendered his objections to the whole thing in the guard tower.

Sophia looked up to Chips brothers and gave them an apprehensive look and curled a little tighter within herself.

For a moment no one spoke and then it was Lamont who decided that this wasn't the way things should be. He loved Sophia like he loved any of his own brothers and sisters. In fact that was what Sophia was to him. His slightly bossy, princess-like sister. There really wasn't any disinclination on the way he felt about her. He was absolutely certain that whatever had caused this hellish nightmare to return probably had a good deal to do with whatever Sophia had been doing out in the rose garden the previous night but he had found that… he really just didn't care. Being angry wasn't going to make anything better.

"Penny for your thoughts, Sophia?"

Sophia again looked up at him and then sighed. She looked down and then started shaking her head and then sighed heavily.

Armand did the same right after her and then turned to his brother "Maybe we should go…"

It was as if he had said something completely outlandish. The tears started to pour down Sophia's cheeks with fervor and she started to wheeze in near panic.

"Please! No!! Please don't go…"

"What can we do to help you?" Lamont jumped in, giving his brother a glare.

"We just want to help."

Celestine wrapped her arms around Sophia's head and pulled her in tighter to her breast all the while running her fingers through her tangled hair and trying to calm the sudden hysterics.

"Just…just don't go anywhere…."

Her tears still streaming down her cheeks she tried to make sense of the three people standing around her. It wasn't like she could wake up. She'd tried that over the course of the day countless times and no matter what the outcome was the same. Her life was turned upside down. The castle looked like hell itself had swallowed her entirely and replaced all that was light and good with the absolute image of death and pain. It was dark and sharp and everywhere she looked all she could see was blackness. Not the kind of blackness that you light a candle for. Inside the blackness, Sophia could feel deep into her bones that it held allot more that you could see. There were things in the dark that would have her. Things that would suck her deep within and hold her forever in whatever fear and hatred she knew was all she was made up of. For a long time she lingered on the notion that maybe the castle was a physical manifestation of what Sophia had turned into. A bitter, angry, dark monster with no hope of ever feeling the sun again.

Again Lamont's voice came to her "What would you have us do, princess?"

She shivered inside herself and looked up into his green eyes. "I'm so afraid… I'm just so frightened…. Are we going to die?"

Armand was surprised as his body took an automatic step forward and almost reached his hand out to touch her. Despite his best efforts to be composed and unyielding he felt compelled to reassure her. "No, Sophia. I think we're all going to be fine. You don't need to be afraid, it's not you we're worried about."

Sophia raised her head a little higher, her eyebrow quirked high on her forehead.

"Who?"

"The King, your highness." Lamont said automatically to her curiosity. Almost as automatically Armand's arm slugged him in the stomach. He glared at his brother and clearly told him with a look to not say anything else.

Sophia understood every gesture and suspicion came across her red face. "Why won't you tell me if you said it wasn't I who needed to be worried? What has happened to my father? No one will explain to me and I demand that _you_ tell me."

Armand felt slightly threatened by the princess and squared his shoulders. Lamont started to shake his head realizing he had opened the floodgates. "Princess…. It's not that we're trying to hide anything from you…" He trailed off unsure of what he could say without giving anything away.

"Then what has happened here? Everyone in this castle has been running madly all over creation attempting to hide something and even my dearest friends won't tell me?"

She looked at both of them with hurt at the feelings of betrayal. Lamont looked at her for a moment and the turned his body to look at Armand imploringly. Armand shook his head angrily.

"Absolutely NOT! Lamont! You know it's forbidden!"

"I know Armand but…. Maybe the reason he made us promise was because he wanted to protect his family and well… Obviously they aren't going to be protected without at least knowing what the story is."

"What are they supposed to be protected from? You know what Christian will do to us if he finds out that we told her? Why don't you try protecting us while you're at it Lamont!"

They fell silent for a moment looking at one another. Sophia felt a huge surge of impatience at their secrets that had clearly eluded her for years.

"I'm going to keep asking you till you tell me!" she announced to the both of them.

"And I'm going to continue to tell you to take your highness' order's elsewhere!"

Armand countered back. His face was hard as a rock. He obviously wasn't going to yield with her demands. With a big surprise to herself she realized she didn't want him to. Armand was angry with her, it was evident in the way he stayed clear of her. She realized that what she wanted more then the truth was… for her friends to forgive her. She at least knew how to do that.

She lowered her head and looked at her hands.

"I know what you're thinking Armand… and you're right about me." She paused feeling the humiliation rise in her cheeks. "This is my fault. I did this. I don't know how… but I did this."

Armand felt severely deflected. That wasn't the Sophia he knew. Never once in her life had he ever heard her admit when she was wrong. Her eyes filled up with tears as she looked at him imploringly

"Please…. You have to help me fix this. Whatever happened here…? I'm begging you to tell me what I can do to make things right again."

She fell silent looking at him. He tried to stare her down but he just couldn't do it. There had always been something enchanting about Sophia. As if the residual magic that had encompassed this castle manifested itself in her lovely face. He reached a hand up and started rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes closed a pained expression on his face.

"I'm already sorry for this…" He whispered to no one in particular. Then opening his eyes and looking at his anxious brother he nodded and turned to the girls.

"Alright… follow me."

Deep within the caverns of the castle, down countless corridors, up and down more stairs then could ever be counted the four went. Many times the use of stealth was imperative due to someone nearly coming across their hiding places as they made their way to a part of the castle that Sophia was ashamed to find she didn't recognize. In a very short while she was totally lost and would have panicked if it hadn't been for the fact that Armand was clearly in control of every move they made down the long maze of the castle and Lamont seemed completely at ease. At last they came to a large wooden door and after fiddling with some lock Armand opened it and ushered the other three in.

Sophia found herself staring down a long corridor. It was rather ordinary in retrospect to the rest of the castle and she looked to the boys to have them continue on with wherever they were taking her. But they seemed to have reached their destination and they both looked ahead with the strangest expression on their faces. Sophia looked more closely at the corridor. It reached on far to the other side of what must be the north wall. She could see the door and thought maybe what lay for her was behind that door. She swallowed and took another step forward. Looking behind her the other three had not moved. The boys were looking at her with apprehension on their faces and Celestine was merely looking at them, clearly taking their lead and not questioning it.

"Are you coming?" Sophia gazed at them and wondered what could be their purpose in bringing her here.

Armand shook his head and looked back at her. "No, you have to do this on your own"

"What am I looking for?"

"The answers…."

She turned her body around feeling more nervousness then before. She began to walk slowly down the corridor, facing the door on the other side. It wasn't ten steps away from her friends when she thought to take a look at the stained glass windows all along the left side of the wall. They had blazing light glittering through them as if the sun was directly on the other side. But then with closer inspection the color of the glass was dancing serenely on the other side of the wall and she realized that the light from the windows was coming from hundreds of lit torches. How very peculiar. Why would they have made a whole wall of stained glass windows directly away from any wall that would shin sunlight into them and then randomly light torches to shine the light instead?

What was so special about these particular windows? She glanced at the one directly next to her and then noticed that they were depicting more then just patterns. On further inspection she realized that they weren't even showing Saints or other religious figures as were displayed inside the chapel, or any of the churches that she had been inside.

These were different.

Sophia took another step towards the windows and began to make sense of the riots of color that created shapes and figures. She could see that these particular glass windows were exceptional. The most beautiful she had ever seen she could almost believe they had been painted rather then created by some glass blower. It was a story; something she had never seen before and again it puzzled her that these windows were even a part of her castle. She found herself enthralled by the imagery as she was swept up in the story that was before her. Each new window held another page from the book that contained something she was supposed to figure out.

The first window showed the image of a family. They were clearly royal and they adorned the picture the way jewels would a person. The windows continued on and Sophia stepped from one to the other unable to pull her eyes away. The story followed this family. It showed them living in their castle that was not even to be mistaken as anything else then Rose Castle. It showed them dancing at fancy balls and dining at extravagant tables. There were two children in almost all the windows. One was a little girl with blond curls that looked like she could be mistaken with a very finely painted doll. The other was a boy with the bluest eyes Sophia had ever seen. They were so piercing they didn't seem natural. He was clearly older then the girl and they always seemed to be in the background of the story. Behind the chairs and off to the sides, almost like pieces of furniture or fancy decoration. But what was much more disturbing was how they were depicted. Whoever had created these windows had somehow captured the look of sadness and neglect on these children. They seemed so angry and…. Unhappy. Really unhappy, not something that some spoiled princess had made up in her head.

Sophia watched as the scene changed. Everything seemed to get darker as she walked down the hall. There was something interesting about the boy. She couldn't stop staring at him. Something happened to this family that would change the course of what happened to this boy. From what it looked like it would seem he fell ill. Then the glass changed and Sophia watched as it seemed like the window began to move. The family, with the exclusion of the young boy were riding in a sleigh on what looked like a frozen pond. Then directly after this scene it showed the young boy standing at the tomb of what could only be his entire family dead on stone slabs. There was nothing to describe his face. He seemed so lost and out of place in the dark gloom of the scene. Something had changed in his expression. It was the look of nonchalance, of indifference. He was cold and apathetic and looked almost ten years older then the age he must have been when that incident occurred.

Sophia continued on with the story and saw, as the boy grew more and more angry and unhappy. The longer the story went the more she felt like she could reach out and touch the boys face and smooth back his long blond hair. He became a tyrant of a master to what must have been his servants. There was windows of him beating anyone who got into his way, ones of him surrounded by the most lavish of extravagances, then of him astride a grand charger taking down a buck in a dark forested area.

It was at this moment when the story became something much stranger then just a family portrait of a fairly typical royal family. It turned into some strange tale that she could almost guess she had read in some book. The glass showed the castle in the dark, an obvious storm raging outside of it. There was a peasant woman at the front doors. How she had gotten past the front gates was a mystery. It would seem she had demanded the presence of this young boy who was lavishly dressed and didn't seem to want to be bothered by anyone, let alone an underling. The woman was beseeching him to allow her lodge at the castle. The boy-prince had a look of utter scorn on his face. The woman held up a rose in offering to the boy. He clearly made a gesture to expel her from the castle grounds. As if made of wax her entire body melted and she grew about two feet as she turned into a beautiful woman with long golden hair that reached the floor. The depiction of the woman was a bold statement to the viewer that she was not natural. Her eyes were almost totally green without pupil, her face was long and pointed and seemed almost animalistic. The prince dropped to his knees and began to plead with the woman.

What was more interesting was the look of sadness on the woman's face. She seemed to be almost as pained as the prince was at his obvious mistake.

Up until this very moment the story had seemed almost enough to swallow but it wasn't until magic fairy-women showed up in it that Sophia began to feel very uneasy. She tried to tell herself that magic wasn't real and that this was just a stupid fairy-tale that would metaphor something else. Yet Sophia knew that it wasn't the case anymore. A vivid picture of a young man named Wilhelm wouldn't let her, for a moment, believe that magic wasn't real and she would remember it for the rest of her life.

The next scene was unbelievable and the master artist who had created the windows had done a marvelous job to leave nothing to the imagination. Something happened between the beautiful woman and the young prince. One portrait showed him as a man, the next showed a revolting and most deformed looking monster standing in his place. Sophia felt rather confused for a moment if it hadn't been for the fact that the monster still had the same devastatingly beautiful blue eyes. Sophia felt sick and enthralled by the concept all at the same time. She could have stared at those few windows for hours and tried to understand exactly how all these thing could be possible but her curiosity burned deep within her and so she continued on.

The young prince-turned-monster lived in the castle. The windows showed several stages of neglect and disrepair. Sophia couldn't know if it was months or years that his life stayed that way, but before she could ponder on that for very long she was given allot more to think about. Once again the story changed and the next window's figures held something she wouldn't have even guessed would enter this story. Very clearly and perfectly crafted was a depiction of a young girl with dark chestnut hair and a beautiful creamy complexion. Sophia gasped and took a stumbling step back as she recognized the girl in an instant. The scene showed Sophia's mother standing near a shabby farmhouse complete with pigs, chickens and a goat. Belle was wearing a tatty blue dress with mud stains on the hem and dirt on her ugly brown shoes.

Sophia's mind began to whirl as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. She watched as a little portly man left in a wagon loaded with goods down a road. Sophia remembered Papa Maurice very well and she was just as shocked to see him equally as ill dressed. Papa Maurice traveled through a dark wooded area clearly lost. A pack of wolves began to stalk him like a wild pig. He somehow managed to clear himself of them in time to reach the gates of a dark and foreboding castle. He went inside only to meet a much more terrifying animal. The young prince inside the beast's body imprisoned Sophia's grandfather in a tower of Rose castle. The next window showed her mother at the front gates of the castle. How she got there was not explained and Sophia was beginning to realize why this corridor was so long.

The girl in the tatty blue dress was exchanged for the old man. She was not imprisoned but put into a lavish room and kept there.

The more this story went on the less it made sense and yet Sophia found her heart beating quickly as she watched the events that unfolded. It was the most intricate and interesting thing she had ever beheld. Her mother escaped at some point only to be tracked down by the very same wolves. The beast came to her rescue and nearly died in the process. Somewhere between flighting from the castle and near death the two seemed to come to an impasse. The beast and her mother began to spend time together. In the library reading, outside feeding birds, dining at an enormous table. At some point the look of the castle became much brighter as did the countenance of both its main characters.

Her clad in a extravagant yellow ball gown and him in fine evening-wear fit for a king they danced with the moon shining like the sun overhead. Sophia realized that however unlikely and unseemly it must have been, Belle was in love with this monster and had no idea that he was an actual person in disguise. It was absolutely insane to one such as young as her and she almost stopped her way down the corridor. It was the next window that caught her eye. Her mother was once again fleeing from the castle. Somehow she had known that Papa Maurice was in trouble and her captor had let her leave. With some twisted fate that seemed to always befall strange love stories the castle was attacked at almost the same moment by a horde of villagers. How they had come to know of the castle was again a mystery to the uneducated viewer.

The Beast was found in his rooms and promptly shot. Without any struggle he allowed himself to be beaten and massacred by the enraged peasants. Belle felt fear rise up in her heart at the idea of the beautiful young prince dieing like a mongrel. At just the right moment Belle showed up again and the Beast seemed to find a reason to live after all. He made his way to the girl he loved and was received with a long knife through the side by the villager.

Once again the scene began to move in front of her eyes. She could see that the beast was dieing. Her mother, so proper and primped knelt over him weeping and what could only be the deepest love she had ever felt across her face. With a bright window of color and light something changed between the two and suddenly it wasn't the dieing beast or the young prince standing next to the soaking girl in the blue dress.

Sophia felt a huge lump rise in her throat as she stared into the face of her father.

Younger, thinner and seemingly dazed out of his mind but it was him. It finally occurred to her why those eyes were so beautiful. She couldn't convince her way out of the truth about the whole thing. It was he and she had known it all along. Two worlds in her head collided like the collapse of two mountains. One was the world she had been fed since birth of her family and what she had come to believe by her own deduction, the other was this amazing story presented in front of her. Sophia felt her knees weaken and she tried to steady herself by backing up as far as she could into the opposite wall. Her friends were next to her in a moment. No one spoke for several minutes as she tried to grasp onto anything that made any sense. She finally looked to the boys and with pleading in her eyes asked them the first question that came to her mind.

"My mother isn't a princess… is she?"

Lamont shook his head and opened his mouth to say something but then thought better of it and closed it again.

"How do you two know about all this?"

"Because we were there when it happened." Armand replied gravely.

"And now it's happened again? This is what you've been trying to tell me?"

Armand nodded his head slowly and looked away from her down the hallway again as if to escape the reality of what she had just said.

"My God, what are we going to do?"


	17. Hired Help

_Attn: This is another chapter I've been working on for a while. It's a little more difficult because I just have this small window of opportunity to build lasting relationships between all the important characters in my story before everything gets turned upside down. It might seem that things are sort of dragging out in depression mode but it will get exciting soon, I promise. _

_PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review and give me some motivation to continue._

Chapter Seventeen: Hired Help

The sounds that ensued thus followed. A loud crash that much resembled a lamp being thrown across a room. The lamp then shattered into a thousand pieces over the heads of at least three or four servants who all shouted in protest. There was a strangled noise of someone or _something_ being mangled and then a grotesque gargling before a resounding growl. If by this time you were close enough to hear you would recognize the sound of a large supply of small metal pins cascading down to the marble flour and spilling everywhere.

Then a deep low voice that barely resembled a human's tone began ranting.

"If you stick another pin into my furry arse, Durand, I'm going to have your head and your testicles mounted on the tower!!!!!!!"

Christian was standing in the middle of the West Wing with several of his tailors making futile attempts to dress him in something more appropriate then his well groomed fur; in hopes of helping him to be decent enough for mixed company.

Cogsworth stood wringing his hands and trying to keep some sort of order in the room of madness.

"You know master, it might be a little less painful if you would just HOLD STILL!!!"

Christian gave him a withering look that was a little more impressive then his usual glowering.

"Cogsworth… why don't you...how about you all... I've had just about..."

Unable to find anything that would fit his feelings towards his staff at the moment he turned around towards poor Durand who was now greatly fearing for his member and said "Well…. What are you just standing there for?"

Several people rushed over to once again to try and clothe their irate master.

Christian was actually making very little effort to be still enough for the whole clothing situation to work but he wasn't about to admit that. His thoughts were so muddled and clouded over that it was a surprise he was still standing in the same spot he had been for the last fifteen minutes.

Between his memories of the distant past and of the powerful instincts to rip and tear these clothes apart and run naked through the forest howling at the moon he was thoroughly distracted when he finally registered the sound of very soft footsteps coming down the hallway to his room. The lilting gate and the almost mouthwatering scent of her hair hit his mind the way a charging bull would. It wasn't two seconds later that she emerged through the open door looking so beautiful that he froze. When everyone saw him suddenly become immobile the whole group did as well.

Belle cocked her head to the side trying her hardest not to laugh at how ridiculous everyone looked at that exact moment. Several people bowed and curtsied as the queen entered the room looking so exquisite in comparison to all the dismal décor of the castle that it seemed the room suddenly became much lighter.

Christian looked at her through a curtain of his hair that had fallen over his eyes. She gazed back at him without moving for a moment and then without hesitation she smiled warmly both with her mouth and her eyes.

He couldn't help himself; he felt a small twinge of a grin spreading across his lips and over his fangs that he ducked his head a little further into his collar as to try and hide from her how deranged he felt when he smiled.

He couldn't seem to grasp it entirely. What was it about her that when he was in this form he reverted back to a fifteen year old boy whose body had finally started to work properly? He had all these wild desires to kiss her and touch her bare skin with his fingers on one hand and then on the other, in a truly insuppressible way, he wanted to lick her face and have her rub the hair behind his ears. All these thoughts swirled around in his mind as she crossed the room and asked Durand if she could possibly attempt to get some breeches to wrap properly around his bottom half. It was always something that the entire staff secretly adored about their queen. She was so accomplished and capable of doing all the things that they were required to do. Maybe she didn't do them as well but she never hesitated to give anyone a hand when she could.

She silently reached towards Christians strangely fitting trousers and began to try and fix the pins and stitches as best she could. For the first time that whole day he stood perfectly still. He ran a paw over his vest still grasping something to say; surely it couldn't be that hard to remember how to communicate with his wife… could it?

"You…. you look very lovely today…" He said trying his best to alter his voice so that it sounded halfway normal. He felt her hands pause around his left knee and she looked up from her crouching position all the way to his face. He leaned his head over to better look at her and her smile in return was exquisite as she looked back at him. "And so will you once we get you clothed" She replied pleasantly. He looked away, uncomfortable with her compliment. He turned his head to Cogsworth and Lumiere and in an attempt to divert the awkward silence said, "Why did you save these things anyways?" gesturing towards his coat that was at that moment being taken out so that it would button in the front.

Lumiere looked around casually as if the wall had suddenly become extremely interesting. "Oh…. You know master… we just zought perhaps--"

"Perhaps that--" Cogsworth attempted to save his cohort "—that you would want to use them again."

Christian felt himself grow increasingly irritated at the very notion. "Use them for what, Cogsworth? Was there some notion that I would need them again between the staff I didn't know about? I distinctly remember the orders to have these thrown out. What happened to that?

"Posterity reasons master! We thought perhaps you would want to remember something of your past!" Cogsworth stomach began to swell up in embarrassment as he scrambled for something to cover up how stupid he felt.

"You know you might just try saying thank you, Christian and leave it at that"

Belle said from the floor, doing her best to keep this as painless as possible she just wasn't sure why he was being so difficult with everyone.

"Thank them for what? These rags don't even fit me!"

"Well, you'll have to excuse them, your Grace. You are actually much bigger now."

"What?"

"You grew four inches after we got married… I would imagine in this form that would equal… oh… Two sizes at least!"

Someone giggled from across the room and Christian chose to ignore it on principle.

"Clever" He mumbled under his breath wishing he could sink into the floor. Even though they tried to keep him from seeing he could feel the stares of everyone in the room. The fear and embarrassment at seeing there king this way.

In those moments standing there with Belles soft hands sewing neat perfect stitches into his trousers he allowed himself to think about the impact his servants had had on his life. They didn't deserve any of this. Christian had occasion to realize something. Something he had secretly known his whole life. He knew that if it weren't for the fact that he was the king and even before that when he was the crowned prince, he would have spent his whole life alone. He knew that at a young age; that no one really wanted to be around him. If royalty was judged by the people who wanted to be in your company then Christian felt he would surely have been the lowest beggar. Perhaps that's why he was always so cruel as a child. He knew that if he wasn't, no one would have stayed with him.

He wondered what was right and what could be done to change these truths that had so firmly planted themselves in his mind that he had a determination to do something about it. Though what he wasn't quite sure.

After several moments Belle stood up with a broad smile on her face. She seemed rather pleased with herself but then most queens couldn't say they had a knack for taming a very large, very temperamental beast. Her smile faded when she realized that Christian was not returning any sort of positive attention. His eyes seemed to shout at her how disappointed he was and she felt unease creep onto her lips. She reached up her hand tentatively and he allowed her to twist her fingers around the hair at his chin.

"What is it?"

Christian opened his mouth several times trying to gather his thoughts before he said anything that wouldn't sound the way he wanted it to. His mind was so fuzzy with the extent of the last few days.

Once again he ran his hand along his vest and reminded himself that this could be the way he spent the rest of his days. It was a torturous thought and he wished nothing more then to banish it away from his mind forever. He wanted to cry into a corner and whisper to himself that he could change back, he could change back

But that little demon we call doubt had crept into the recesses of his mind and they refused to leave. Some very small part of him wondered if he even wanted them to.

Belle was growing increasingly worried at Christian's lack of comment. Lifting her other hand to pull his eyes into her direction, she leaned in a little closer and lowered her voice so that the other people in the room could not understand her.

"Christian, are you alright?"

He looked down at her solemnly. His clear blue eyes searching her face through the mask of fur and fangs.

"I think…I think perhaps this might not end well Belle."

"Oh Christian, please don't--"

"Belle, regardless if you don't want to consider it, it still looks like a very likely possibility."

"So what are you saying? Are you…Do you mean… I don't even know what you could be thinking when you say that."

Christian paused refusing to allow his voice to break. "I don't ever want to lose you.. But I don't think I can allow the… the people who live in this castle…. I think if we stay like this…. That perhaps it's time to let everyone go…."

Whatever Belle had been expecting him to say it wasn't anything close to that. She raised her eyebrows in surprise and tried to understand what he meant by his statement. She heard a small gasp from the rapt attention of the trusted staff that was pretending to be very busy with pattering around the room. They all seemed to register what he was saying allot quicker then she had. A man named Alain, who had been serving for the king since he was a young boy brought here at age four by his father to live, took a tentative step towards the Beast and his queen and vocalized what many of the servants were thinking,

"Master…. Are you dismissing us?"

Christian closed his eyes in anger at the fact that he would have to deal with the messy emotional situation of telling his staff that they could leave. They didn't understand. Once they understood what he meant they would be all too happy to go and Christian would have to watch them go. It was a bitter taste to suck down his pride and admit that he could hold himself prisoner all he wanted but he had to let those he loved go…..

He didn't speak but merely gazed at Belle imploringly. She squinted her eyes trying to understand herself. "Christian, why would you do that?"

He looked down at his clawed feet and tried to swallow. He looked back up at her and then down again. "You of all people should know that no one deserves to be a prisoner here. I've been selfish long enough. They need to leave Belle…."

For a moment she only gazed at his pained face. It just didn't make any sense for the longest time and then it finally dawned on her what he was talking about. She let out a noisy breath through her nose and allowed a stern look to cross her face. She shook her head as if to reprimand him but then thought better of it. Turned her head to Cogsworth and Lumiere who were looking at her anxiously. Lumiere being the braver of the two ventured to gaze pointedly at Belle in hopes that she would be able to make sense of his masters incoherent ramblings.  
"Do you understand what he means?" she asked plainly.

Cogsworth shook his head vigorously; this really wasn't good for his high blood pressure… surly this was some kind of odd joke.

"No, your majesty" He offered. "We would appreciate if you could explain it to us…."

"Oui, before Cogsworth 'as a stroke" Lumiere interjected.

She glanced briefly at the floor and then looked at the pair again. "He thinks that you-" she made a gesture to the entire group "All of you… wouldn't have stayed here with him had you not been forced to….." She paused for just a moment to gather her words " He thinks, and I imagine has thought this for a very long time that you do not wish to stay here if you didn't think you had to."

There was a deadened silence. The kind of silence you get on a deathbed in the early hours of the morning in January. Christian swung his foot slightly to counter the silence and had to force himself to look into the eyes of his trusted advisors. In so many ways he knew like any good things he had done as a father had come from these men. They were as close to a father as he had ever gotten and it was unbearable to witness their reproach.

"Well, it's true isn't it?" he finally determined to say.

Lumiere tried to swallow the sting of the assumption. "Not even a petit amount correct" was his reply.

Christian felt a slight sting behind his eyes and tried to blink them away. Oh why did they have to make this so hard? It would always be Cogsworth to notice these small things in his master, no matter what he looked like. "Christian…. Why would you think that?"

"You misunderstand me, you all do. I'm not throwing you out… I will… give you homes and money, you… don't have to stay anymore with…me."

He paused, his composure was key in all this and he had had no time to prepare for the emotions that were hitting him as hard as they could. "This is no life for you…. I am what I am because I made poor choices… You all don't have to suffer for that anymore."

"Master, I must inform you… because you are the one person in my life that has been anything close to family, that you are absolutely absurd!" Cogsworth said feeling his hands clutch behind his back.

"An imbecile!" Lumiere added on to the insult.

Christian was completely taken aback. He had never been called an imbecile by his advisors before in his life. It was awfully rude of them. He felt his hackles rise slightly and began to feel defensive. He opened his mouth to tell them all what he thought of their conclusions about his character when he was interrupted which was also something out of the ordinary for his close associates.

"If you believe for one minute zat we did not 'ave plenty to contribute to zat spell zen you 'ave been living under very false assumptions."

Babette with her sweet temperament and adoration of her king thought perhaps a woman's perspective might be a little kinder and less explosive then her husbands choice of insult. "Master, please do not be angry with us. Only understand zat zis is our home… we do not wish to leave. For many of us zis is the only 'ome we have ever known and you are our only friend in the world who 'as the power to make 'uge changes in our lives. You 'ave 'eld our destinies in the palm of your 'ands and I 'ope zat I am speaking true for my colleagues but… we don't wish to lose zat or you either."

There were several nods of approval at what the gentle maid had said. Christian could feel torment coursing through him. This wasn't right. He was supposed to be convincing them… not the other way around. He was a beast! A large frightening beast of legend that people should run away from. Why was it that he was finding himself in these situations so often for the last few days? For years he had gone without altercations such as these and then suddenly his life had swooped into this nightmare of a fairy-tale again and he was being forced to take a stand in all the things he truly believed in. In his attempts to push people away he had been very successful until now. For whence came the change he would never know except that he was now a beast and he was in a battle of wills that he was sorely losing between himself and his entire family of servants and staff.

He began to sputter with the counter arguments and found the only words that would come out of his mouth turned out to be. "But… why would you want that?"

For a moment no one spoke and then finally Cogsworth gave him the collective answer that would have to suffice for the group. "Because my king…. We honor you. We know what you have sacrificed for us just as you know how we have sacrificed for you. Sometimes you bring these things on yourself, God knows we all know that. But sometimes not and either way the real matter is that we belong here. The story is only complete when we are all together. Christian, I don't know what's going to happen but if it comes right down to it, I would rather spend the rest of my days as a mantel clock here in the shadow of this castle then as a king myself anywhere else in the world. If there is a chance to get you out of this--"

"Again!" someone shouted from the back of the room.

"Again" Cogsworth agreed. "Then I can promise you that you're never going to get out of it without us."

It would seem with that small declaration of love that a small spell in and of itself was broken. Christian once again felt some kind of wall break down between himself and his dear friends and he knew that he couldn't get them to leave him anymore then he could get himself to leave them physically or mentally.

His choked silence was an obvious cue to everyone that it was time to scatter. He nodded solemnly and turned to face the wall so as to make the situation seem less conspicuous. More so though, to hide the cast emotions that were playing in his eyes.

He felt Belle's small hand on his arm again as he could hear almost every footstep shuffle out the door.

"I need to be going as well." she said softly.

He turned around a little quicker then he had meant to. Cogsworth and Lumiere were still standing in their corner of the room along with Durand, his captain of the guard. He would deal with their concerns in a moment.

It was astounding to look at her. How was it possible for one person to be so beautiful?

He swallowed a huge breath and nodded his head in agreement. But oh, if she had known the pain she was causing him. He needed her like he needed air. He wanted her body and soul so badly that it was literally choking the life out of him and yet he knew that he would have to suffer in silence for he just did not have the strength to open that door again.

He had her back in his life in a hideously agonizing way. He could no longer hold her at a distance because he needed her, but it was a small window at the top of a large citadel that they could be together and though the space between them was closer now then it had been in years it would never be enough compared to how close he truly wanted to be to her. At a point in their history he had been a part of her and she him that not even a baby in her womb could feel the nearness and the passion that he felt towards her.

Now he must watch her come and go and only remember that at one small time in his life… he had truly had the perfect life.

"I will see you soon, alright?"

" I think so…"

"Christian, please, try to be alright… I will come to you as soon as I have talked with Sophia. The servants tell me she's with Lamont and Armand. They think they were sneaky using the east corridor."

"What was she doing?"

"Oh God knows… Probably trying to force the truth out of the little teacups!"

For a moment he thought about smiling but then decided against it. Sophia was going to have to know sooner or later; perhaps this was as good a time as any.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Belle paused wondering what he wanted her to say. "We'll work that out together. But no matter what, I promise you that whatever we decide we'll do it together….

I love you Christian."

He knew she meant it. And if she had only known what those little words meant to him. He would love her more then his own life and the lives of every person in the world and the worlds to come. But saying it was something he was out of practice of and could not bring himself to remember how. He merely nodded and she realizing that that was going to be his final response nodded as well and without another word walked out the door and out of his sight, hearing and smell. If only he had known what those last words from her would mean for the rest of his life.


	18. The Great Escape

_Notes: All right so this chapter has been something of an excitement to write for me. Things are finally starting to change so they can make themselves right in this story. Generally everything is self-explanatory. It goes from scene to scene fairy swiftly but I have done my best to keep things clear so that there won't be too many surprising mix-ups. I am very aware that these chapters are getting longer and longer and frankly I'm not going to apologize for it. I love how things are going and it makes for a much more interesting story for me to write. I just hope it is getting interesting for you to read. _

_I want to thank Maureen for her review, it really made my day. I also want to thank everyone for reviewing for me since I've started to write this again. You really don't know what that means to me. If you could find it in your heart to continue I would be most grateful and maybe more people will start to read this. That would make me happy as well._

The Great Escape

Christian felt weary. He had faced several of his own personal demons in only the space of a few hours. As he continued to stand in the middle of the deserted west wing he wondered what he was going to do.

These kinds of thoughts had not ceased to cross his mind since the change and he was growing continually weary of it by the second. How was he going to get through this?

He lifted his paws and looked closely at them. His eyesight had once again transformed from their aging state to perfect and he could count every individual strand of fur around the pads on his fingers. He could see how the colors changed from hair to hair and how they fluctuated from fine to course depending on location.

He flexed out his digits and his claws protruded almost an inch and a half. They were frighteningly beautiful. Lethal weapons that could tear through flesh faster then you could think. Like all feline type animals they held a particular type of poison that caused infection should his claws slice your skin. The weight of power and muscles that ran from his arms all down his legs both amazed him and frightened him. Only days earlier had he felt his age of near forty, now his body was one of power and agility and the animal inside him wanted to leap and run.

And yet….. Deep down… Christian felt so weary. His arms ached for his Belle. As if a fire had started deep in the marrow and was only continuing to grow with time. His torso and his loins recalled every motion and feeling of tenderness towards his love and his new energetic body only caused the desires and emotions to run hotter and faster then he had felt in many years.

"What am I going to do?" he whispered to the sunlight as it cascaded into the room.

At that same moment he heard heavy footsteps down the corridor. The person was breathing heavily and walked with purpose. Almost thirty yards away from the door Christian could distinguish that it was someone in the guard. Possibly two hundred and fifty pounds and quiet tall, perhaps even six and a half feet.

As the person came closer to the door Christian could hear this man's heartbeat. It was slightly erratic for a guard who was in top physical condition, which meant he was overtly worried about something. A few more paces and his scent preceded him. Early forties, a deep smell of sweat and hot air, he also had a slight residue of urine, possibly from having relieved himself coming up the corridor. Christian hoped that it hadn't been in one of the plants that adorned the corridors. The guards had a nasty habit of doing that when they thought the servants weren't watching.

Durand, the captain of the guards entered the room without even bothering to announce himself. He stood strait and looked Christian square in the face without hesitation. Christian could detect no sense of fear or anxiety from this man. He seemed completely comfortable in the Beasts presence as he would any time.

Durand bowed and waited for Christian to address him. As if this were a typical day at court and nothing was amiss in the room whatsoever.

Christian nodded his head in ascent that would give Durand permission to speak and then turned himself slightly to the left to gaze in the direction of the terrace doors. He did not like Durand to stare at him so frankly.

"My men just returned from the village, sire."

Christian nodded "And? What did they find there?"

Durand shuffled his feet uncomfortably due to the arthritis he was developing there from standing on too many battlements for too long.

"I sent Clovis, Leon, and Rupert. They dressed in peasant clothing and entered the village through the south farming community. I tell you master it was unnerving just to hear them report it. There was no one in the fields and when they entered the village there wasn't a soul outside. They were all holed up in their houses. Not even a child was anywhere about."

Durand was slowly moving about the room running his fingers along the furniture while he spoke for a bit of dramatic emphasis.

"What does that mean?" Christian wondered aloud.

Durand shook his head " I know not except that they had a hell of a time getting anyone to even talk with them. The townsfolk apparently seemed afraid of their own shadows. It was almost as if they were…"

Christian looked Durand strait on and finished his sentence. "Enchanted."

"Do you think this really has something to do with the spell?"

"Yes, I do. Those peasants were strange before but not openly reclusive. Something's going on down there Durand and we need to know what it is."

"Clovis told me that they listened to a conversation in the tavern and overheard someone mentioning a meeting that night with the men in the very same tavern. They understood that there weren't to be any disturbances from outsiders."

Christian pulled his paw up through his mane alongside his left cheek.

"You and a contingent of soldiers go back down into the village. Do what you can to stay out of sight from anyone. Then get someone into that tavern to listen in on what is being said."

Christian paused trying to gather his thoughts. "At the first sign of any kind of outbreak do your best to get back here before they do."

Durand looked at his master puzzled. "Do you think they will be able to find there way through this haunted forest to the castle without someone to lead them here."

"Durand, they found their way here before when it was almost impossible for anyone to make it past the first line of trees without meeting some horrible end."  
"But Maurice made it through. Just by sheer luck!"

"That wasn't luck Durand. That was fate. Much more capable men have never been seen again when this forest was under the spell. And if in fact we are reliving our past I would not second guess the lessons we learned the first time."  
"Do you not think it wiser to confront these people first? I will go down with half the garrison and _we will_ find out what they're up to."

Christian shook his shaggy head quickly. "No. The less they suspect that there is something amiss the less they have to speculate with. Besides, I need your men here."

He paused, his thoughts racing as the whole image of what could happen was starting to take its ugly shape. "If they do come to this castle and resume the pillage they started you will send your troops to protect my family and get as many servants out of this castle as you can unharmed. I don't want one of your men coming near me. Get you and your fellow-staff out and to the safest outpost you can find."  
It was Durand's turn to shake his head vigorously. "Master! I swore an oath to protect you since you were a babe and I am not about to break it now! I--"

"That is my command. I can promise you that I will be able to take care of myself."

Christian flexed his paws so that there was no mistaking the long claws that protruded out. Durand felt a motion of alarm and without hesitation he put his hands on his master's burly arms and clenching them saying "Master… they will _kill you_…. I will not let that happen."

Christian stepped away from the emotion for it caused his own heart to ache. "Captain, they have already done that once. I don't believe it holds any surprises for me. And perhaps… perhaps that is the reason behind this whole thing. Perhaps I've cheated death for just too long. Durand, maybe that was the purpose behind the spell. I loved my Belle and she loved me but… perhaps I wasn't supposed to live through it and now fate has come back to finish the job it started."

Durand, unafraid of any danger found himself full of fear. A tear slide down his rough, battle scarred cheek as he refused to turn away from his masters seeming defeat.

"You don't believe that. We didn't come this far, through everything for you to believe that some wretched meddling enchantress can decide when and how you die!"

Christian nodded his head knowing that some small part of him did believe it, but something stronger, fighting its was through the doubt and insecurity knew that even if it wasn't true, he wasn't going to lay down like the dog he looked like and die. More then all of this, he almost wished for a raid to break out. If nothing else he would at least like to go down fighting this time.

"Please promise me Durand that you will protect my wife and children. They are more precious to me then my own life. Keep them safe."

Durand nodded "I swear it master." And without another word he turned quickly and existed the door and vanished from all sound and smell.

Christian slunk down the corridors on all fours. It was much easier to maneuver this way and his paws sensed noise and movement so acutely that he would have felt a mouse sneeze down in the catacombs from his location on the third floor.

More quiet then the swish of butterfly wings he passed dozens of servants whispering in corners going about their business. On the opposite side of a door he passed he could hear a servant boy (he could not recognize), and a young scullery maid he was sure he had talked to at least once. He heard the distinct sounds of the young man grunting as he tried to rip her corset off her body. He heard a shrill squeal of pleasure and sounds of heavy breathing between the two.

Christian glared at the door in disgust. What does he pay these people for?

He slunk away not wanting to listen to the erotic sounds of two people who obviously new nothing about love and merely wanted to satisfy their loins. No thought for the hour after the deed, let alone the repercussions of such, should, God forbid, she become pregnant. He knew in the likely case that that should happen he would have to choose between trying to smooth things over with the staff and allow her to stay or fire the both of them. At the moment the latter sounded rather appealing.

Christian felt a bitter taste in his mouth. He was sure that behind the annoyance of the two sordid lovers he was extremely homesick for the embrace of just one woman… The only woman he could imagine being with. Unfortunately he had already made decisions never to touch her that way again and so it would always make him impatient when others, especially people who had no real affection for each other were allowed to have sleazy affairs when he would remain totally abstinent the rest of his miserable life.

Christian irritated, banished these thoughts. He was dwelling on them more and more every day and wondered if his recent regenerated vitality had anything to do with his increased desire to pull Belle into the bedroom like some common drunk with a bar wench. Only worse because his animal instincts were even stronger then his human desires, if that was possible. So thoughts of mounting his wife like the lion to his pride of lionesses, though repugnant, sent lightening into every nerve of his huge, powerful body.

'_There is more to life then sex'_ He thought to himself sternly. _'It is not the only way I can express love to her!'_

He found that his mood was growing increasingly irate. He was upset and he wasn't even sure why. He allowed his thoughts to trail from his previous ones of physical affection to life with his family. He missed them. He took pause for a moment to recall the feeling of what it was like to die. The man who had killed him, whoever he was, had been so intent on having Belle for his plaything that he had taken a knife and drove it into the soft side of Christian's belly. At that moment the feelings were almost identical. The ripping, tearing motions of the knife cutting deep into his organs was the same as the feeling of loneliness and separateness that caused his very breath to catch in his throat. This was what he had been missing for all these years. His family was so far away from him that he was not sure if there was a bridge long enough to get him back across to where they had been. He wanted his Sophia-Belle. He wanted her with him, by his side. He missed his little boys. Christian knew that he was running out of time to truly become their father. It was common knowledge that bad blood flowed through the veins of the Roseienne family and if he did not take care to teach these brothers true virtue and nobility they would not be the first in the long line of bloody history to assassinate each other for the throne.

With a movement almost too quick to see, Christian changed his course and was at the door of the nursery in mere moments.

Standing up slowing so that he was at eye level with the doorframe of the room, he lifted his paw into a fist and gently knocked on the oak door.

The twins had a lovely nanny named Claire. Without hesitation she opened the door part of the way and for a moment looked out blankly at the other side of the hallway before she caught sight of Christian's full appearance. Her eyes widened in shock and she let out a shrill gasp as she took a quick step back onto her left foot. She slapped her hand over her mouth and closed her eyes before leaning back forwards to look at Christian.

"Oh your majesty! You _frightened_ me!! Please forgive me!"

Christian couldn't decide whether to be amused or hurt by the dramatic reaction from the nanny. He took a large breath of air and then nodded his head.

"It's alright."

She shook her head in reply "Oh but master, I am so sorry. I did not expect to see you here."

"Truly Claire. I understand."

She nodded her head. He could hear her heartbeat thundered in her chest so loudly that the veins in her arteries pumping blood were easy to distinguish around her neck, chest and temples. She was holding her breath every two or three beats to mask her fright from him. Christian felt annoyance at that. He wished the servants would be honest enough to just admit that he did frighten them. It didn't matter how different he was now compared to decades ago, he was still a monster and they _should fear_ him. It was the sensible way to feel. No matter how much anguish it caused him.

The silence between the two grew as Christian contemplated her slowing heart rate. Claire, growing anxious, looked down the corridor and then to the other side wondering if there was something she was missing. The hallways were quiet and growing darker. The shadows cast an eerie light on the pronounced parts of Christian's features causing him to have a mythical look. Like something from deep out of legends that travelers brought from distant lands to entertain the local people.

She shifted her weight onto her other foot and then timidly asked. "Sire, might I ask why you are here?"

It was so strange to watch Christian speak. She had imprecise memories of her time in the castle during the first spell. She had been merely fifteen at the time, working down in the kitchens and could not recall a time when she had been very close to the Beast, only glimpsing him from a distance, even after Belle arrived. So to see him so near now was like having a strange dream. To look at his animalistic face and see the quiet expressions and quick movements it reminded her of a bear or even one of the horses in the stable. Then without any warning Christian would open his mouth and intelligible words would proceed out. It was both fascinating and unnerving.

Christian looked down onto her round face and openly nodded his head. "Yes… Are the boys asleep?"

Claire nodded her head, feeling slightly alarmed. What did he want to do?

"If it's alright with you..." he began timidly. "I would like to sit with them for a little while. I promise I wont wake them. I just…. I just need to spend time with my sons."

Claire looked behind her quickly to make sure there were no sounds of stirring in the nursery. Then looking back at her master she nodded.

"Of course your majesty."

Christian entered into the dimly lit room. Tucked into a side alcove of the massive nursery was a large canopied bed. The boys lay snuggly under the thin covers, surrounded by heaps of pillows. One had his last three fingers on his right hand stuffed into his mouth and the other was snuggled near his brother with his face pressed into the others shoulder.

Christian soundlessly approached the bed that held the sleeping boys and with the grace of a cat he crawled onto the end of it. Taking two and a half circles exactly in the middle he settled himself into a comfortable curled position.

Claire made her way into her chambers on the opposite side of the room, knowing she could hear any sound made and would be able to respond quickly.

Christian watched his boys sleep. Paris was slightly bigger then his brother, with a rounder face that matched his mother. Jean-Luc was thinner but had inherited his mother's lovely small mouth. They both had hair the color of spun gold but where Jean-Luc had eyes exactly as Christian did; Paris' were a deep chocolate brown. Christian smiled at the thought that perhaps the twins had had a hat full of the traits of both their mother and their father and had each pulled out random ones at the drawing before their birth.

With the greatest of care he reached his paw over and smoothed the blankets on his sons shoulders. They did not stir in their sleep but continued to snore softly.

He felt a lump grow larger and larger in his throat until it threatened to burst out or suffocate him.

Oh, he missed his boys. He knew nothing about them. He was not sure if they even knew anything about him. Though he spent small amounts of time with them every night he never showed them anything about himself or about what it meant to be a man, or a king or even just a member of a family. He felt intense shame as a small whimper escaped his mouth, like a dog that whines after being beaten. His heart moved in sadness at all the lost time.

He had so much pain locked away and he had known all along that it wasn't their fault. So why had he taken it out on them?

In truth, he did not know.

"Oh my boys…. I promise you, if I ever get out of this, I will change what I have done." He whispered as quietly as his voice would allow.

He gazed long and hard at Jean-Luc. Someday, God be willing, this young sleeping boy would be king. Christian knew that he fiercely did not want this beautiful child of his to ever have memories of growing to be 'the future king' the way he had.

He also knew that he must nurture Paris lovingly. It would be all too easy for the bond between these two brothers to snap in two if they were not led in the right direction. Whether Christian believed he was the right man, or beast, for the job; in the end it was _his_ job and no one else could fill his place.

As he lay there thinking deeply on a past he still regretted and on a future that was as clear as mud he felt something peculiar.

Deep into the marrow of his bones, his animal senses perked keenly into place. Something beyond sight, hearing, and smell was afoot and he could sense that it was nothing good.

The sound of birds several miles into the forest were suddenly chirping wildly and taking flight without provocation. There were wolves that had stalked the gates of the castle from the moment this new spell had occurred were suddenly no longer present. The trees were shifting noisily in their roots and carrying sounds of some strange ruckus deep within their resting grounds.

Christian cocked his ears to the side and waited. Long moments passed as every muscle in his body was frozen in position to move stealthily off the bed and into whatever direction he chose.

He waited patiently as he heard the wind rustle and servants slam pots and pans in the kitchen below.

Two things happened almost within the same moment of each other. He heard it before he could smell it and he smelled it long before he saw anything. But just before the blare of panicked trumpets sounded, before the guard began to run wildly around shouting orders and raising every alarm they could get their hands on there was a noise. A noise so obvious to Christian's ears he could almost guess the exact distance away. Hundreds of marching footsteps of heavily intoxicated men coming from the direction of the village were approaching the castle. A pistol was fired that caused dozens of animals to scatter fearfully.

The men were coming to the castle and this time, they weren't leaving without the Beast.

The guard tower was so filthy that both Celestine and Sophia had not taken seat upon reentering the room. But since both Armand and Lamont loved the malodorous smell off the guard stations they both were lounging on the straw ticks.

So when the trumpets began screeching indecently on every side of the castle, including the lower guard stations underneath the one they were in, both boys sprung to their feet and wildly ran towards the window.

Sophia and Celestine ran up behind the young men and tried to get a peek outside to see what all the commotion was about as well but were blocked from the view by their large statures.

Armand and Lamont looked astonished by the scene that was playing out directly below their tower window. Not even taking the time to be ashamed that they had not been paying attention to the impending danger they scanned the area around the castle that was in their view. Men were pouring in from the forest, carrying clubs and other weapons. All at once they seemed to run at the entry gate with synchronized force that would soon cause the whole thing to give way off its hinges.

Both Armand and Lamont remembered the raid on the castle sixteen years ago and it was like some horrid dream that was once again replaying itself at the foot of their home.

The sound of the gate giving way to the mob; men poured onto the bridge and several for no apparent reason began to take aim and fired their pistols and hunting weapons at the castles windows and parapets.

"Those bastards!!!" Armand shouted out the window as glass began to shatter from the shots being fired.

Sophia felt panic grip her heart. "Who are they?"

Lamont looked over his shoulder at the two women behind him and then back out the window. The guards inside the castle were beginning to return fire. Several of the bowmen were making quick work of the front lines of men who were running full force with a battering ram made from a fallen log in the forest.

"They are the villagers." He replied pointedly "Whoever you met in the rose garden Sophia, defiantly didn't wish you or your father well!"

He spoke as several of the men below took the places of their fallen mob-members and resumed the march to the front doors of the castle.

Sophia looked at Celestine and found her friends face to be full of terror at the sounds coming from the window.

The castle was being invaded. What were these men going to do?

"I don't understand" Sophia whispered at the backs of the two boys at the window.

"They are the villagers who live on the other side of the forest. They were the ones who invaded the castle the last time we were under the spell." Armand explained.

Sophia blinked and tried to make sense of the whole idea. "Was it the village my mother lived in?"

"Yes."

"What do they want?"

Armand turned around "They want to do what they started sixteen years ago."

He sidestepped the girls standing in front of him and Lamont made movements to follow him. "They're going to kill the Beast."

Sophia felt her breath catch in her throat. 'No' she wanted to shout but was unable to release any air. They couldn't kill her father. Especially not when it was her fault that he would die.

Armand grabbed a hold of his bow and arrow and took two pistols off the rack on the wall then threw one to his brother who was also snatching his own set of weapons.

"We have to get down there before those men get inside the front entry way." Armand announced as he made his way to the door.

Celestine had been frozen in horror but as she watched her friends begin to walk out into the unknown battle that was ensuing below she seemed to regain the use of her faculties.

"Wait!!" she screamed at Armand and Lamont. "Wait you can't leave!!"

Armand turned around quickly and glared at her. "We are members of the royal guard! We are not going to hide up here while peasant thugs slaughter our king!

She shook her head impatiently at him. "Non! Armand, we 'ave no way of getting out of 'ere wizout meeting any number of zese villagers. If zey get a 'old of ze princess Christian will never forgive you! Neizer will Belle for zat matter!! You _cannot _just leave 'er up 'ere!"

That had not crossed either of their minds and they completely stopped, wondering why they hadn't thought of it. Sophia, on the other hand, felt red-hot indignation course through her stubborn mind.

" I can take care of myself." She retorted.

Lamont made a sarcastically impatient noise with his lips and rolled his eyes at the thought of the princess trying to face a mad drunk villager in the darkened hallway. It was very clear that they had no choice but to stay with the her.

Celestine looked at Sophia in annoyance and shook her head. "Sophia, for once in your life you are going to 'ave to trust us!"

Armand on the other hand was not about to die in the tower room either. It would only be a matter of time before someone decided to raid this guard station for more weapons and found the four. Armand knew he and his brother would last a whole of five minutes blocked into a corner like this, especially with two young women who cannot defend themselves.

"Well what would you have us do, Celestine?"

"You 'ave to get 'er out of 'ere. You two know zis castle much better zen I do and you can keep 'er safe until it is over."

They both stood their thinking about this for a moment but Armand quickly found a few objections.

"But if we flee, how will we know if anyone is still alive here?"

Lamont looked at Armand. "They will escape to the military fortresses, Armand. Durand said that in the case that the king is killed, Belle will be in charge but Lumiere and Cogsworth will be the ones to get everyone out of the castle until they reach safety. Then they will travel to Paris and consult the chancellors to either coronate a new king or allow the queen to rule the country until the heir is old enough to rule."

Sophia felt like she was going to faint with the way they spoke of her family being murdered by angry villagers like it was something everyone had all understood might happen someday. She wondered how she could have been so blind to everything that went on in this castle.

Armand nodded his head slowly taking in everything. "Alright. Well…." He paused

"We can escape out through Belle's tea room."

Lamont snapped his fingers and smiled at Armand. "Yes! The corridor that leads into the canyon!"

"The what?" Sophia looked at the two puzzled.

"There is a stairway that has an entrance inside the north tea room. Normally it leads you out into the side of the castle that faces the stables but when the castle is under the spell it continues all the way down the plateau we're sitting on right now. It will spit us out onto the base of the canyon below us. There is s stream down there that will lead us to level ground. It will eventually empty out into the ocean but if we cut across back country we can make it to the coast before tomorrow night." Armand again explained to her. Then he paused looking about himself wondering how they were all going to get out of this mess. "But where are we going to go?" He finally asked his brother who seemed to be a tad wiser tonight then normal. Lamont thought for a moment and then looked Armand in the eyes.

"Chip."

"Chip? What has he got to do with this?"

Lamont nodded his head. "Chip was here when the first spell was cast. He's one of the only ones missing from sixteen years ago. And remember what he said in his last letter. He's been studying alchemy and natural magic in England. Perhaps he can do something!"

For a moment Armand looked as if he was going to object but then decided that it was as good an idea as any and in any case it would get Sophia out of the country. Plus Chip was under the tutelage of every duke, earl, and baron who had served near the king of England. He would have some sort of connections to help the French royal family should anything happen to Christian and Belle. This also seemed like a wise idea since they weren't sure who was in on the strange conspiracy of raiding the castle. Perhaps this was a countrywide pandemic and they would need all the help they could get.

"Alright" He replied. "Grab as much in here as you can carry."

Celestine looked around the room and then bolted towards the door. "I will meet you both in ze tea room!" And without giving them a chance to protest she vanished down the hall and out of sight.

Armand and Lamont could hear the sounds of a raging battle as the door to the front entry hall seemed to shatter with the force of the villagers breaking the stronghold the guards had placed in front of it. The whole castle seemed to be in an uproar and the three young people ran quickly through the hallways and down the stairs until they reached the tearoom; which was fortunately void of anyone inside.

It wasn't five minutes after they arrived there that Celestine slunk in with a huge bundle in her arms.

With pleasant surprise to the three standing in front of her, she handed each traveler a heavy cloak and then set in Armand's arms a large sack full of something heavy. It clanked inside and he had a suspicion that he was going to find himself holding a large gold item worth more then his entire life's salary.

"Where did you get this?" He whispered to her.

"I stole it from ze trophy room."

Lamont's jaw dropped as she smiled slyly at him. Then he looked to see that she had not brought a cloak for herself.

"Aren't you coming with us?"

She shook her head quickly. "I must find my parents. I am one of ze queen's personal maids. If I find 'er I will be able to get out of ze castle with her personal bodyguards and I will meet up wiz you when you have found Chip. Don't worry, I will be alright."

Lamont looked as if he was going to protest vehemently but Armand laid a hand on his arm. He knew she was right and that Celestine was as sly as a fox. Those idiot villagers wouldn't be able to catch her, let alone hurt her. Plus they were running out of time before men began to spill into the north corridor and they would find the four of them standing here.

"It will be alright Lamont." He said soothingly to his brother and Celestine smiled at Armand as he made his way over to a corner of the room facing the south. There was a painting that reached from the middle of the wall and ran all the way down to the floor. He pulled it away from the wall and right behind it were two holes large enough to put your hands through, which Armand did. With an audible heave, he seemed to remove the whole section of the wall away from itself to reveal a very skinny, very tight hallway that seemed to quickly slope down into utter darkness.

Armand turned to his brother and Sophia and motioned them to follow. The sounds below them seemed to be mounting in intensity and there were pounding footsteps that were growing closer and closer to their location.

Lamont looked pained and for a moment hesitated then whispered "Oh, to hell with it." right before he rushed over to Celestine and shoved his mouth onto hers. He kissed her roughly and she grasped his elbows to hold on while she kissed him back.

Sophia watched in utter astonishment. It was so peculiar to see these two interacting the way they were. It also struck her how sad it made her. She did not have feelings for Lamont the way Celestine obviously did, seeing as she was clearly pushing her face harder into his then he was into hers, but it still made her sad. She knew that behind her temper tantrums of the idea of marrying anyone, especially anyone her father wanted her to marry, she wished that someone would kiss her that way. Now it was possible that no one ever would.

The two broke apart and smiled briefly at each other. Once the moment was over Lamont walked towards the hole Armand had created in the wall, grabbing hold of Sophia's arm and ushering her to follow Armand who had just disappeared into the darkness. He didn't let go but just for a moment turned around and looked at Celestine. "I will see you soon."

She nodded in agreement and then turned and ran out of the door of the tearoom so that he wouldn't see the tears that had just sprung into her eyes.

Sophia watched for a moment and then allowed Lamont to lead her into the tunnel behind Armand.

Christian had a strange sense of clear-headedness. He could hear every noise that came from the battle below and from the moment the alarm had been raised he seemed to already know what was clearly his only option.

The trumpets were still being sounded when Claire came running out of her quarters to find Christian had quietly slipped off the bed and was sitting on his haunches at the base of it. The sun had finally set behind the mountains and twilight was settling over the castle. No candles had been lit so now the monstrous beast was cast in darkening shadows.

"What is happening?" She asked to the large silhouette.

With complete calm he replied, "The castle is being attacked."

She placed her hand over her mouth "My God…"

Without another word to her Christian stood up strait on his hind legs and went to the other side of the nursery. He was completely bathed in shadow and she could not even see his outline. After a few moments she heard a door open where the closet might be that held most of the twins toys.

Christian searched along the wall trying to remember the secret cubbyhole that every closet in the castle held. If the villagers weren't driven out as they had been before, there was no doubt they would pillage every room in the castle. It would be impossible for him to get the twins and Claire out to any of the passageways that led out of the castle and any of the entrances _into_ the castle were out of the question. He wouldn't risk them getting hurt. But he did know that Cogsworth and Lumiere knew of specific instructions to get everyone they could out of the castle to safety should a conflict arise. Once they had accomplished rescuing the queen and everyone else they could find, they would send some of the guard out to see if they could retrieve anyone who had been left behind. He knew that they would know where to search for the royal heirs and would not leave for any of the fortresses without them.

His paws found the latch to the cubby and opened it without any resistance.

Stepping out of the closet and back into the dim light he walked back towards the bed. Motioning for Claire to follow him he put his arms under Jean-Luc who was beginning to stir due to all the noise that was coming in from outside. Swiftly he gathered the boy up in his arms, wrapping his blanket around him. He walked back to the closet and laid him on the floor inside the cubby that seemed to have just enough room for the three. Claire was right behind him, stumbling as she went for she didn't have eyesight strong enough to see in the dark. After running into Christian's backside, he pulled Paris out of her arms and laid him next to his twin. The boys were now awake and had begun to whimper. Taking Claire's arm he guided her into the cubby next to the boys and she tried to pull herself in next to them without stepping on their arms or hands.

"What do you want me to do Master?"

He crouched down, very glad for the cover of the darkness. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if his sons were to be frightened by his appearance.

"Stay here Claire and protect my sons. Cogsworth and Lumiere will find you and they will keep you safe. Promise me that no matter what you will keep them quiet and not alert anyone to where you are. Men will come in here to steal everything we have but they must not be allowed to harm my boys. Promise me you will keep them safe."

She allowed a soft sob to escape her throat then whispered. "I promise Master."

The twins were fully awake now and had begun to cry, not being able to see where they were. Claire placed a protective hand on Jean-Luc and whispered soothingly that she was there and that it would be all right.

Paris finally cried out. "Where is papa?"

Christian paused for a long moment and then whispered as quietly as his voice would allow.

"I'm right here boys. Please don't cry."  
They both started to reach out trying to find where his voice was coming from but he inched away from them, not wanting them to feel his furry coat. Not that they would have understood but he just couldn't bare to have them touch him and he not be allowed to scoop them into his arms and hide in this closet until the villagers came to kill them all.

"My sons, please try to be very quiet until Cogsworth comes to get you. Stay with nanny. Alright?"

Both boys answered with a soft. "Yes, papa."

"I… love you my sons." He finally was able to say as he stepped away from the cubby.

"I will see you soon… I promise." And without another word he closed the small door to the cubby and quickly arranged a large amount of toys in front of it to hide it from sight of anyone who wouldn't know it might be there.

Getting on all fours he quickly bound out the door and into the hall outside the nursery.

He had lied to his sons. He knew in all his life he had never told a lie more dishonorable and more shameful then the one he had told his little sons that he would see them soon. He knew that he wouldn't.

He galloped away from the nursery turning corners and bounding down staircases without every touching a step. At last he reached the entryway to the castle. Strange a memory it was to know that only a few days prior he had found himself wrapped up in his unbearable spell once again right in this same entry-way.

If he had known that his life would end in those moments, he wondered what he would have done differently. How useless it felt that if it were possible he would try to change almost everything about his life.

Christian knew that by coming into view on the grand staircase he would be signing his own death warrant. But he also knew that it would draw the attention from his men and anyone else that had been caught in the fray. If it was true and this entire fracas had been brought on by the reoccurrence of the spell then he knew that his entrance would end everything very quickly. These people, whoever they were, were sent for him. For whatever reason, if they were out for his blood then he might be able to save a few of his people by handing it over.

Without allowing himself to think about it anymore he slowly began to descend the staircase. Men were engaged in battle, many of the servants were welding whatever tool they could use as a weapon to defend themselves. There were several maids attempting to throw things at charging villagers from the second story railing.

For that moment the sound seemed to cease. Christian paused in the middle of the stairway standing on all fours looking down at the scene. The whole room stood eerily still as the eyes of the all the villagers seemed to forget any encounter they had been engaged in and turned to look at the Beast standing on the stairway.

Then without warning, no signal of any kind the villagers moved in unity towards the stairs. One of the guards cried out 'NO' as he realized what was happening.

The villagers who had been closest to the staircase seemed to hold a military resistance to the oncoming guards-men as the rest began to run up the stairs ready to attack the monster they had come for.

If Christian had wanted to be truly ironic he would have smiled to the oncoming villagers but instead he reared his head back and gave them a howl they wouldn't soon forget (even in their foggy-enchanted brains). Then allowing any animal instinct he still had, he lunged forward into the mob and watched as his own arms began to attack and swing every which way.

For a brief moment he thought that perhaps he was actually going to win the little foray until he felt a club come down on his head so severely that he thought perhaps his neck had snapped. Instead he realized that both his horns had been broken clean off. Clubs began to rain down on his head and body in his moment of pause and he pitched forward rolling down the stairs, landing with a thud at the bottom.

He realized he was hurt, possibly inches from death and in fact drawing his last breath. So for that moment he thought of Belle. He thought of her smile and the way she always had a stray strand of hair in her face. He thought of how much he had loved her and what those three little words had meant for his soul. And just before he closed his eyes and made the decision to let go of whatever else this life offered him he wished, so deeply and so sincerely, that loving her had been enough.


	19. Traveling on the Broken Road

AUTHORS NOTE:

I am enjoying bringing in allot of character development. I hope you can notice the change in Sophia as she continues in this story. There is still going to be allot more of her and she really is essential to the plot. This chapter also gives you more insight into post movie Belle. She will always be the most amazing heroine and she's like the north-star in the story. I know clichéd but what can you do. I thought the chorus to 'God Blessed the Broken Road' was good inspiration for this chapter. If you all could just read a review a little more… that would be nice.

'**Every long lost dream, led me to where you are  
Others who broke my heart, they were like northern stars  
Pointing me on my way, into your loving arms  
This much I know is true  
That God blessed the broken road  
That led me straight to you'**

_**Chapter nineteen: Traveling on the Broken Road.**_

Lamont had a large toad in his two hands. Wrapping his fingers around the amphibian's bloated stomach he extended his arms out as far as they would go until the toad was inches away from Sophia's face. Then causing his vocal cords to reach almost two octaves higher, accompanied with a wicked smile on his face, began to wiggle the poor creature from left to right.

"Oh Sophia!" He exclaimed in a high voice. "I love you sooooo much. Please kiss me and I will change into an handsome prince and whisk you away to my castle of mud!!"

Sophia wiggled her nose in disgust. She was sitting on a large crate in a fisherman's cabin making their way across the channel to England. The boat they had boarded was small and dingy but the captain had been more then willing to exchange broken pieces of gold off the trophy they were carrying for safe passage across the waters.

Pulling her face away from the toad she put her hands on the sides of the crate to scoot herself backwards. "Stop it! That thing is disgusting!!"

Lamont pushed the toad closer to her "Oh, but my love, I am really beautiful on the inside!! Kiss me!!" then he started to make kissing noises as the toad came within inches of Sophia's mouth. With a thin shriek she kicked her feet out and shoved Lamont in the opposite direction. He tumbled to the floor of the cabin throwing the toad up into the air. It landed with a dull thud on the floor, rolled over and then hopped into a corner for refuge. Lamont rolled over laughing hysterically as Sophia stood up in indignation.

She was almost as filthy as her traveling partners. Her dress she had been wearing when she left the castle was coated in mud from the bottom until it reached the edges of her traveling cloak. Her hair was ratted and had started to fall out of its bun Celestine had put it in. They had been forced to swim across the small creek at the bottom of the canyon after getting out of the castle and unfortunately for the two young men… Sophia didn't know how to swim. Needless to say it had been something of a struggle.

Though Sophia was an accomplished athlete at the castle she was not in the type of shape it took to walk ten miles through the forest, over brambles and logs with her soft velvet slippers. She could also outride anyone in her social circle but had not expected the sore muscles and pains that come from riding a horse for miles and miles on a defective saddle made for a man, not a princess.

She was physically and emotionally exhausted. Hungry, thirsty, worried sick and now quite ready to throw a temper tantrum in Lamont's honor.

Armand looked over at the two of them from his corner. He had been gazing placidly out the cabin window at the rolling water as they neared the shore to the coast of England. He wondered if perhaps this feeling he was getting from the waves as they crashed against the boat was any indication that perhaps he should go into sailing. He made a mental note to talk to Christian about it… if he ever saw him alive again.

Rolling his eyes at his brother, but also feeling the twinge of a smile creep into the corners of his mouth he said, "Leave her alone, Lamont."

The boy on the floor was still chuckling as he rolled over to retrieve the poor toad from his hiding place.

"Where did you get that thing anyways?" Sophia said with exasperation as she once again resumed her uncomfortable seat on the crate.

"Poor little fellow, hopped right into my saddle bag. Found him when we boarded the boat. I guess he was tired of the French drought. Wanted to see a little of the English countryside." Lamont replied.

He held up the toad and examined its body with a small smile on his face.

"You know Armand, maybe Christian should have been turned into a frog instead. What do you think? Might have gone better for him."

Armand turned once again away from his stare out the window to his brother.

"I doubt Christian wanted to be anything but himself. Not to mention a frog is not the most useful creature in the world. At least Christian was able to stand up taller then a wine glass."

Amused Lamont thought on that. "But then again, perhaps he could have used his small stature to his advantage. For example when _we_--"

Sophia stood again angrily and took several steps towards the opposite wall causing Lamont to pause in the middle of his sentence. With her back still turned to the two of them she said quietly. " I wish you would stop talking about my father like that. Whatever happened to him, we're going to get him out of it. I hate how you talk about magic as if it's something natural." She felt a red hot flush creep up her cheeks at her own words. She didn't even much like her father. So it was a surprise to her that she felt a strange protection of him that she had not felt before in her entire life. It didn't make sense, no, not one bit. Still regardless of those feelings, fat hot tears began stream down her already raw, dirt stained face.

Armand looked over sympathetically at Sophia. "Princess, we are not trying to show disrespect. Lamont was only jesting." He could see the tears dribble down her front once again. After hours of travel accompanied with the noises (all night long) of her whimpering on the back of the old nag they had secured for her, Armand would have stood on his head juggling eggs just to keep her from crying anymore. He had no idea how very maddening it was to listen to a woman cry for hours on end.

Lamont shrugged his shoulders from the floor still holding his toad. It let out a croak as it tried to wiggle out of his hands.

"Throw it overboard, Lamont, it's making me sick." She whimpered sponging the tears off her face with her dirty sleeve.

"No, I'll let him go when we reach the shore. He'll have a better chance of surviving on land then in the middle of the channel."

Sophia looked about her in disgust, she would have heaved over the side of the boat had she anything in her stomach. Nevertheless the nausea was almost more then she could handle as the boat rocked back and forth. She continued to whimper softly as she examined her blistered fingers from the dirty harness she had held all night long as her horse had trotted at an uncomfortable gait.

"How much further do we have to go?" She finally asked, her stomach rumbling uncomfortably.

"Not long yet." Armand answered without looking at her. "Wait just a moment." He then whispered leaning further out the window. "Look! There's England!"

Both Sophia and Lamont rushed over to see that, indeed, they were approaching land.

Sophia felt a rush of relief to realize that in a few hours time she wouldn't have to feel the rocking sensation of the boat any longer. At the same time she had a strange elation enter her heart that had nothing to do with water, boats or England. It had been growing continually as they had come closer and closer to their destination. Her heart fluttered suddenly as she thought about where they were going. Feelings she had never felt before in her anger and frustration she had lived with for the past six years were suddenly coming on full force and she found herself wanting to smile despite the immense misfortune that had befallen everyone she secretly held dear.

Chip. She was going to get to see Chip again. That meant something to her and she wasn't sure why except that the sooner they got to him the better.

Lamont smiled and then resumed his seat on the floor of the cabin. He was still young enough to see this whole thing as one big adventure, God willing that it would somehow end in a happy ending and not some horrid tragedy. Still, he had bright hopes, unlike his more pessimistic brother. They had managed to get out of impossible circumstances before and he was sure this would be no different.

Sophia leaned against the wall again in hopes to steady her seasick stomach.

"Good." She finally said in answer to the blow of the whistle that indicated they were approaching the shore. "I'm filthy! First thing we need to do is get a change of clothing and I need a bath."

In reality she was more concerned about how she was going to present herself to Chip. That was very important for their reunion.

Armand looked at Sophia strangely. "Sophia…" he said and then paused. "We don't have time. We have to get to Chip as quickly as we can. Not to mention we don't have the money to stop anywhere."

That concept was foreign to Sophia and she cocked her head to the side in surprise. "We don't?" She asked innocently.

Armand shook his head. "No, we don't. Also, I should mention that your face isn't unfamiliar to anyone that has lived in France. By now everyone who knows of what has happened at the castle will also know that you are missing and there are going to be bounty hunters everywhere. They will be quicker and better skilled then you or I at finding people. So you have to do your best not drawing attention to yourself. You already walk around as a princess would and someone is bound to notice."

Sophia found this information a little hard to swallow. Her face turned a shade of white at the idea of disgusting, smelly bounty hunters tracking her down and then strapping her to their saddle to take her to wherever they want.

Suddenly Lamont started to chuckle from the floor. "Sophia, how on earth did you ever think you would survive had you managed to run away?"

She looked at him in confusion and he adjusted his position on the floor with still more amusement on his face. "I mean in all seriousness. Lets say you had somehow managed to get outside the castle walls, did you think things were going to be any better then this? What exactly were you planning on doing? Did you think you could just waltz into any one of the neighboring towns and they not recognize you? Or even more then that, did you think the people you encountered would just hand you what you wanted on a silver platter as they do at the castle?"

He looked at her reprovingly behind his half smile and she, feeling the way a child does when it is scolded, burst into noisy, heaving sobs.

"I… I… Don't know what I was going to…. To… do… I just wanted to get away…away… from my father!" She managed to shout back out at him.

His eyes narrowed in irritation at what she was saying. Why was it so impossible for her to understand?

"It was your father, who was trying to protect you from all of this." He said darkly as the smile disappeared from his face.

Sophia now was crying to hard to speak. Armand gave his brother an exasperated look that clearly said. 'Great! Now look what you've done.'

With the greatest of care he walked over to her and putting his arm around her shoulders he handed her his handkerchief that had finally dried off from their swimming adventure in the stream. She leaned her head on his shoulder and finally whimpered out. "Do you think my mother is alive?"

Armand chuckled a bit and then finally said to her. "If I know your mother, she's going to be just fine."

Night had fallen as the last carriage was filled with servants, bedding, and food. In only a few hours time the castle would be filled with villagers and looters from every corner of the countryside and they had to get as far away from this place as they could. Cogsworth knew of the safest outpost. A small castle to the east, on the border. It was nestled into the mountainside and would provide them with everything they would need for months if they could only get there safely. The bodies had been taken down into the catacombs, both villagers and members of the staff. It already smelled awful down there and they would be taken care of later. That is if they ever saw this castle again.

Belle was tucked into the most inconspicuous carriage there was with her two sons on either side of her. Their nanny had been found holding the boys tightly in the small cubby of the closet in the nursery. The closet had been ransacked but the three of them had not been discovered by some miracle.

Lumiere took one look back at the castle, silhouetted against the brightly lit night sky and then without a word called for the caravan to proceed forward across the bridge. Guard members rode horses on either side of every other carriage except the queens, which had four, though they knew to scatter inconspicuously nearby if they were to pass anything threatening. The best way to keep the queen and her children safe was to keep from drawing attention to them.

They marched forward through the woods. Wolves made moves to approach the horses and were shot upon sight. Their best bet was to pass on the opposite side of the offending village. They would only pass a few of the outlaying farms and would stay on the road only for a few moments before being totally clear of anyone that would want to do them harm.

The night was clear and the moon, being full, shone like a torch over the travelers.

Belle was keeping her window open for the time being. No one would recognize her in the dark. Especially not the way she looked that night with her hair disheveled the way it was. At a random moment as they were coming to the crucial spot near the village, Belle having been sitting in her carriage quietly the whole time, started to scream something. Then without even bothering to allow the company to slow to a stop her carriage door was thrust open. The two guard that had been trotting by it's side both had spooked horses from the noise and quickly were forced to move out of the way. Belle jumped out of the carriage while it was still moving and before anyone could stop her had lifted her blood-spattered skirts and was running, full out, towards a small house a few yards down the dirt road they had been traveling close to.

Lumiere and Cogsworth both jumped out of their own carriages when the noise had finally traveled up the line of guards. Huffing and puffing they followed her to where she was running.

Cogsworth looked at their destination with confusion as he tried to gasp for air. The little cottage was a mess. The roof had partially caved in; the door was open and hanging off its last hinge. There were no doubt squatters or some wild animal living inside the shabby little establishment. But before they could even shout loud enough to stop her, Belle had entered it without even pausing.

"Why is she going in there?" He finally was able to sputter out to Lumiere who seemed to be breathing slightly better.

"I 'ave no idea." The other man answered.

Belle found herself entering a room she had not seen in over seventeen years. She could here the noises of her men approaching but she didn't pause long enough to allow them to catch her before she had a chance to know for sure. She started to run up the stairs. They creaked dangerously and one broke underneath her foot right after she was able to pull it out of the way. It clanked to the floor below, leaving a large gap in the middle of the stairwell. Belle hoped that none of her men would follow her, as they probably wouldn't see it in time to get their foot out of the way.

She raced up into the tops floors of the upstairs of the house and rushed down into the largest room. It had been her father's. She found herself unable to see for just a moment. The window was uncovered though and it allowed enough light inside for her worst fear to be confirmed. The room was a terrible mess. The bed had been stripped, A chest had been demolished at the end of it wherein had once lain her mothers hope chest. Full of old china and her mothers most prized positions they were all long gone along with most of the things her father had kept in his room to remind himself of her. Belle walked dazed into the room to find on the floor an old painting, the glass shattered and shards scattered all around. The portrait was small and had once held the only picture of Belle's mother. It had since been tread upon by some clumsy foot and the oil on the paint had caused the colors to smudge together.

Belle found herself almost unable to breath. Was it not enough that she had lost everything she loved this night? Was it not enough that her daughter was missing and her husband presumed dead? She had been driven from her home after watching several of her friends killed in a battle that had come from no provocation of her own?

Now as she sat down hard on the dust covered floor she wept loudly. Oh how could she face any more hardship and survive?

After a few moments and quiet sobs she heard loud creeks on the stairwell. "Careful Cogsworths. Zere is a 'ole right zere!"

"What is this place?" Cogsworth answered after managed to take a wide step over the hole in the stairs.

"I zink zis was 'er 'ome." Lumiere replied after surveying the small rooms that must have at sometime been a modest, but cozy home.

When they reached the top of the stairs Cogsworth placed a hand on Lumiere to silence him and they both listened to hear soft sounds of a woman crying coming from the end of the hallway. Walking softly they entered the room, one by one, to find Belle cradling a dirty torn portrait on the floor of the nearly destroyed room. Taking careful steps over to their queen Lumiere crouched down to Belle's eye level as Cogsworth came and sat on the corner of the broken down bed. As he allowed his weight to fall a huge cloud of dust surrounded him and covered his hair in a haze of white.

Lumiere looked down at Belle and realized that he saw something more then the queen he had been looking at for so long. The real Belle, the one he had met a very long time ago, had all but disappeared into her new role that Lumiere had almost forgotten her. But here she was again. Young, alone, and frightened. He found himself back to those days, back to those long lost memories. The young girl he had once known and had truly loved almost as he would his own child, though he was only ten or so years her elder.

Placing a hand tenderly on her shoulder he said. "Dearest… what is the matter?"

Belle looked up at him so vulnerable that both Cogsworth and Lumiere found their hearts wrenching out of place.

"He was supposed to take care of all this…. He promised me that he would bring this all to the castle."

"Who?" Cogsworth asked a little puzzled.

"My father." She paused as anguish crossed her face. "Oh Cogsworth, it's all gone! Everything that I had left of my mother is gone. How can I leave it like this?"

She held the filthy portrait closer to her bodice and allowed a few sobs to escape her throat.

Lumiere looked around him and knew that there wasn't anything they could do to make this right. Villagers would be on their tails soon and they had to get everyone into a safe place.

"My lady…. I know 'ow zis must feel for you but… but we cannot stay 'ere."

Belle looked as if she wasn't going to be able to comply with his wishes. Cogsworth feeling the weight of a truly cruel world that would subject this girl, in many ways _his girl, _to everything that had happened. Still he knew that she would have to continue to be strong regardless whether she felt she was capable or not.

"Belle… Your children need you. You have to help us take care of them now."

Belle felt a stab in her heart at his words, knowing he was right and also knowing that all at once all her dreams had been shattered save only her little sons sitting in the seat of that carriage below. They were all she had left.

She nodded then whispered. "Please… can I have a moment? I promise I will follow you in just a moment."

The two agreed and exited the room. Once their creeks could no longer be heard Belle laid the portrait at the foot of the bed. Then kneeling down herself at the open hole that had once served as a window she clasped her hands together and after a few moments was able to sob out quietly.

"Dear God….. Please let them be alright…. Please, somehow help them both to find their way back to me."


	20. Master Christoph'

_AUTHORS NOTE: Alright, so this chapter is a huge twist from anything else I've done with this story. I would like everyone to note that it's **Chapter twenty**. Kind of a milestone for anyone still reading. I've had a crazy summer and so I wrote this a bit sporadically but I think I like it. In this chapter we're introducing a much older Chip. I gave him allot of character development because he's important to the story. So all those who love chip might like this chapter. All those who don't... well this will be the only one directly about him. I would ask everyone who is reading this to write me some reviews.... I miss them. Ask your friends to write reviews... It makes me want to work on this more and just so you know... after this chapter... things are going to get GOOOOOOD. Trust me. I've been working on this story for years. And with those thoughts. Enjoy._

**Chapter Twenty: Master Christoph'**

* * *

Chip had a lot of things he liked. He very much liked summertime in England and was in love with the fragrant wildflowers that bloomed there. He loved Éclairs made by French cooks back home. He liked archery, he liked swimming bare naked in ponds with his brothers on warm nights. Chip also absolutely loved his Christian with all his heart. He adored the king and his Queen, Belle. He valued them the way he would his own family.

Chip also happened to like kissing Louise; which was what he was doing right before Butler-George rang him for visitors.

Chip was a guest of the great Magician and Illusionist, Master Dominic Fortesque. He had come to live with him almost a year prior. It was the fourth section of his training in England that he had been endeavoring with for the last six long years. He had studied with the most powerful and educated men in England and was slowly traveling from young kitchen boy to powerful dignitary in his great quest for knowledge. He was even secretly pleased when the servants called him 'Master Christoph'.

His Master tutor was a mad old man who had studied magic's and illusion across the known world. He had taken Chip on as a personal apprentice as a favor to the King of France. Spending the better part of the year training Chip, he had taken his leave for a fortnight and had left Chip in charge. It was a wonderful reprieve from the man's incessant ramblings. Chip secretly thought that he himself had more real magic stored up somewhere in his own being then Master Dominic had ever seen in his entire life.

Still it mattered very little. Chip's time here was coming to an end in six months and he would continue on to the last part of his journey in London.

It was in the Manor kitchens that Chip had met Louise. She was a scullery maid who was painfully beautiful. The daughter of her town's blacksmith, the man had gotten himself into an amazing amount of trouble gambling and had been left in the debt of Master Dominic's squire. To help keep her home Louise had come to work for Master Dominic himself.

She had very little figure to speak of but had spent hours and hours trying to make herself as beautiful as possible with both rouge's and powders. And if truth were told she had the attentions of every young man she came across. Chip not least.

As Chip was the ward of his patron he had to uphold himself to the highest standard as he also represented his own King, Christian. Therefore he and Louise usually met in secret when she was to be cleaning the third floor stay rooms where Chip stayed. She would usually come into his room while he was there studying and they would spend hours together talking and kissing and what have you.

He found he rather enjoyed pulling her up close to him because her tiny frame seemed to simply melt against his toned body. He had grown rather large from years of training in the royal guard and in the time he had spent in England. Chip was capable of many skills, which would make him extremely valuable to the King. And yet as time went on things began to become heated. He had found that their kissing was no longer playful but was becoming much more earnest. The more passionately he kissed her the more intensely she kissed him back. Chip was twenty-five, coming closely on twenty-six and found that his hormones were dangerously near to bubbling over every day he spent time with this woman. But there was a problem to all this and that was that Chip wasn't sure if he really loved her. She was beautiful; he would shout that to the world. He often thought about her body underneath her tightly woven clothing she wore when she worked in the kitchens. That is before he would chastise himself for allowing his mind to wonder.

At one point a few weeks prior, she had come to him in the middle of the night. It was still early spring and quite chilly outside. So he had taken to sleeping in a long cotton nightshirt. She had slipped into his room and onto his body like a glowing apparition of beauty. He had wanted to make love to her, as any semi-coherent young man would in a situation as he was in. He had found that it was all too easy to surrender to her as he had started to remove her clothing in the dark. No one would have known and he would have gotten exactly what he wanted, when he had wanted it. But just as he had pulled her dress off her body and had begun to allow his hands to explore all the possibilities he had denied himself, something strange had happened. At the exact moment he should have been thinking about her and what he was about to do for the first time in his life… Christian's face had wandered into his mind so powerfully that he had stopped everything he was doing and held still as stone.

It was such a disturbing image to have at that moment that he had immediately asked her to leave his room. In his mind Christian had not seemed stern or angry, but the look of disappointment on his face had been the resounding drumbeat that had called Chip back to his senses. At first he had wondered about his own sexual stability. But after close self-examination he had confirmed that he still had feelings for women and had thenceforth banished it out of his mind. But for some reason Christian continued to come back. The idea began to form in his brain as he started to realize how homesick he really was. He missed Rose Castle more then anything. He missed his younger brothers and sisters. Three of his sisters had been married off to wealthy aristocrats that Christian had made matches with out of sincere love to Chip's family. It would have been unheard of otherwise. He had missed Lamont and Armand entering the guard for the first time and whatever else of their teenage years he would have wanted to spend with them. He had even missed his own mother's funeral. He missed her the most.

But almost as strongly as all those things, Chip missed Christian. From a very small age after the spell had been broken Christian had been something of an elder brother to Chip, even as a father figure. He had given Chip the love and opportunities that would never have come to him otherwise and in return Chip felt a loyalty to the King that ran as strong as blood.

After a long time of thinking he realized that rushing off to bed with the first young woman who would allow him to crawl on top of her might not be the best idea. Chip may be a young and eager man, but he was also being prepared for a grand future. He could even find himself being worked into an aristocratic marriage himself. Chip realized that even though he still ached a little bit to know what it might have felt like he had made the right decision. That facing the agony of abstinence would be far easier to bear then to face Christian. In many ways it probably wouldn't have affect his career chances whatsoever; look at Lumiere and Babette for example. But there was always the possibility she would become pregnant. Chip couldn't stomach the idea of facing the royal family with a scullery maid in tow that he didn't even want to be married to. He would have no choice though, after sleeping with her she would be disgraced and thrown out of the town for a common harlot. Even deeper then that though, Chip knew that Christian valued virtue as more priceless then anything and Chip would sooner die then see that look of disappointment on his King's face.

In light of those thoughts Chip pulled his face away from Louise'. Her lips were bright scarlet from the force of his kisses into hers and her eyes were glowing with something Chip could only guess the meaning behind. He took a step back giving her some breathing room as she had been squeezed against the wall by the sheer weight of his own body. He smiled at her knowing that he truly did enjoy kissing her. There was an art to it he was slowly learning and it always sent a thrill up and down his body, reminding him incessantly that it was a mere few yards of fabric that lay between their two naked bodies and what that might mean.

Turning himself around he flopped himself onto the large sofa he had in his stay rooms. He felt something like a prince himself in this room. He had never been furnished and pampered the way he was before this and it was still such wonderment to him. Part of his secret fear was that Louise might be attracted much to his station and less to his personality. He kept those fears to himself but that didn't make them go away.

She looked down at him puzzled at his sudden change in moods and then without a word walked over to him and placed a leg on either side of him. Taking his face in her hands she began to work her mouth onto his slowly inching her body far too closely to his. Chip, for just a moment thought about just giving in but as always flashes of his family back home played into his mind and with the gentlest of care he put his hands on her shoulders and closed his mouth to keep her from continuing any further then he wanted her to.

"Louise, I think perhaps we should stop." He said quietly to her face as she held very still, her body curved so intimately towards his. She sighed exasperatedly and slipped over onto the left side of the couch, her legs still draped over his, showing just enough of her bare skin to give him ideas. "Oh Chip, you really are spoiling the mood. You do this every time."

Chip grinned sweetly at her and leaned his head close to hers affectionately. "Better the mood then spoil you, my dear."

"Humph!" she mumbled, wondering why he didn't get the idea that that wasn't really a problem in her case. He leaned his head back to rest it on the back of the sofa. Taking her hand in his he glanced in her direction, as she lay sprawled out onto the sofa. Her dress had been pulled down from twisting it about and caused the low cut on her chest to pull even further so that the very tips of her breasts were beginning to show. Despite himself, Chip felt a warm flush creep up his face as her eyes met his before he hastily turned them away to stare at a spot on the wall. The silence was soft and calm after the high emotions that rang every time she came into his room like this. Chip knew it was improper and that he should end the whole affair altogether but he was caught in his own indecision about what he was really feeling.

After a few moments of quiet she sat up with her dress threatening to leave nothing to the imagination, as it pulled tighter below her already revealed cleavage. Thankfully, after a few moments of awkward silence, she pulled her skirts around upwards and arranged herself into a comfortable sitting position with her back leaning against Chips massive arms and her head resting on his shoulder. She smiled sweetly up at him and he smiled back. Raising a hand up to his face he began to play with his facial hair. He had started to grow a small beard around his mouth with an even smaller moustache attached to it and he was madly in love with touching his face, ruffling and then smoothing the hairs over and over again.

Louise reached up her hand and caught his in mid stroke. "Stop that! You're going to rub all your hair off your face if you don't stop." She said with amusement. He chuckled in agreement and rested his hand on her shoulder and stroked her cheek with his fingers instead.

She signed contentedly and said. "Tell me of your home in France. What's it like?"

He smiled again at the thought. "In France…… where I live…. The candlesticks and mantel clocks come to life. And they polish silver and dust the castle all the while bickering about the weather and the who's job is more important."

Louise let out a sweet giggle and nudged Chip in the ribs. "That's a lie. You're starting to sound like Master Dominic."

"No it's true. And the land is so enchanted that the roses bloom all year long. Even during snow storms they are alive and beautiful."

Louise' eyes danced at the very idea as he continued. "And the King…. He spends hours and hours caring for the roses himself so that they will never die but will remain with him for all time." Chips voice had dropped low and husky as he talked of Christian. It was as if he reverenced the man more then a normal subject would their master. Louise turned and looked at him with her neck bent at an odd angle. "What's he like?"

"Who?" Chip asked.

"King Christian. Is he really as handsome as they say?"

Chip laughed for a moment. "Why do you ask _me_ that question?"

"You know him, don't you?"

Chip nodded and smiled.

"Well, tell me what he's like. I've seen his portrait but I'm told it doesn't do him justice. Master Dominic says that the King of France holds the secrets to magic itself and that's why he has so many loyal subjects."

Chip looked down at her ruefully. "When did he tell you that?"

"He was drunk one night in his bedroom and called for me to bring him more wine." She replied simply, not looking back up at him.

Chips stomach did a summersault at this. He felt a pang of dread as he wondered what could possibly have given Master Dominic the reasoning to call on the scullery maid in the middle of the night for wine when he had two perfectly capable young _male_ servants who were at his beck and call for that very purpose. After a few seconds to dwell on this thought, Chip banished it from his brain. He refused the very idea of his Louise lying in the bed of his crazy old master, drunk with wine.

He looked around the room trying to remember what it was she wanted him to say about Christian when a knock resounded at the door. Louise jumped up in alarm and began to move things about the room as if she had been cleaning it the whole time she had been working. Chip sat up strait and called for whoever was on the other side of the door to enter.

A tall gangly man entered the room. His name was George and he had been Master Dominic's butler for the past ten years. Middle-aged with a very large nose and an English accent so thick that it had been a struggle for Chip to understand him upon arriving at the Manor.

George walked in and bowed to Chip. "Excuse my interruption, Master Christoph." The older man began with the slightest of sniffs in Louise' direction. He wanted it made perfectly known that he didn't approve of her impropriety at all. Chip used to feel a slight tension whenever George would catch her lurking around his stay rooms but had come to find a good friendship with the butler and knew that the man wouldn't cause him trouble, even if he found the whole thing totally inappropriate.

Chip crossed his legs and smiled at George. "No interruption George. What can I do for you?"

George turned his head to the side and raised his eyebrows with a clear expression of curiosity. "You have visitors, Sir." He replied waiting for an explanation from Chip.

But the young man, on the other hand, had not been expecting anyone and his face soon mirrored George's in bafflement.

"Do you know who they are?"

George shook his head a frown growing at the corner of his mouth. "No sir. They would not tell me there names, only that you were expecting them." He paused for a moment to sniff again. "They said they were friends from London where you were staying, sir. But if they think I couldn't tell they were French then they are doing a disservice to your country in intelligence, Sir."

Chip thought about this for a moment trying to think if there was anyone who would travel all this way from London to see him. He came to the conclusion that there wasn't, let alone anyone French who lived here who would want to see him.

"Were they armed?" he finally asked the Butler.

George nodded. "The two men were carrying pistols and the third traveler was a woman. She wouldn't take her hood off so I wasn't able to see her face."

At the word 'woman' Chip could almost hear Louise's muscles go rigid with tension.

He continued to think about this for a moment and then finally said. "Well… I suppose I will see them. First have them leave their pistols downstairs. Then bring them into my sitting room."

George again took a look at Louise who was madly dusting the same bookshelves over and over again and then left with his orders.

Chip stood up and walked into the sitting room that was connected to his stay rooms.

Louise followed closely behind and stood next to him as he looked around the room to make sure nothing was out of place.

"Who do you think they are Chip?" Louise finally asked him as he examined a small box of tobacco on the table next to the fireplace.

Chip shook his head in reply. "I haven't the faintest idea. Every Frenchman I know is in France."

Just as he said these words a knock came at the door on the opposite side of the room, away from his own stay rooms. George had been rather quick to bring the guests all the way up to the third floor and Chip turned around deliberately blocking Louise from view. First came in a man in a long traveling cloak. The hood was up and his head was down causing most of his face to be cast into shadow. Another man who looked exactly the same except for a different colored cloak followed him. Both these men were of moderate build, tall, but only by French standards. After a moment another hooded figure entered the room. This must have been the woman George had been talking about. Though her face was entirely covered by the hood of her cloak she wore long skirts underneath that, though tattered and covered in mud, were made from a fine rich material that screamed of aristocratic wealth. George who stepped lightly into the room to announce their visit followed the strangers. The two male visitors had easily surrendered their weapons but had pulled the hoods over their faces as well and were silent all the way up to the third floor. Upon entering the room George had stepped to the side of the doorway and stood for a moment before saying.

"Master Christoph these are your guests--"

Suddenly one of the hooded men shook and then made a noise that sounded distinctly like a snort. Whereupon the other figure dug his elbow roughly into the other man's side.

Chip felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise in alarm at the man's laughter. Something wasn't right here and he wondered if he should be concerned.

George glared at the backs of the two men and then continued as if he hadn't heard the rude noise. "Shall I bring you anything sir? Tea?"

Chip took a deep breath and then nodded and smiled at his butler. George nodded back, if not a bit stiffly in Louise' direction, bowed and then exited the room. Chip wasn't entirely sure why he hadn't sent Louise away as this was extremely unbecoming to have her standing there while he conducted business with his guests. But as always he ignored that thought and looked to the two hooded men who were almost blocking the view of the hooded woman standing behind them.

For a moment they all stood there without saying another word. He wasn't sure if he should sit down or stay standing. What would be safer?

Finally he raised his hand in a gesture of warmth and smiled at the group, all heads still bowed.

"Welcome to Fortesque manor good sirs, milady." Chip nodded in the woman's direction. "I regret to tell you that Master Dominique is out of the country for another month. I would hope that you were not here to see him and got me by mistake." Chip paused trying to think if he was forgetting any important rules of etiquette. "I'm Master Christoph and I--"

But Chip wouldn't be able to finish that sentence because almost immediately after he started a loud roar ensued from the man on the left. At first Chip was afraid that it was a roar of outrage but then thunderous laughter echoed inside the large room.

Lamont, unable to hold his tongue any longer threw off his cloak away from his face and nearly doubled over with mirth. "HA!! Oh, what a story this will be when we get back!! _Master_ Christoph?" Lamont attempted a pathetic excuse for a bow and then laughed so hard his sides began to hurt. "The finest kitchen boy in all of France!!"

Armand unable to keep his composer himself pulled the hood off his own head and found himself laughing in spite of his attempts not to. He had to admit that the whole situation they were in was more comical then even he had thought it would be.

If Chip had been expecting anything out of this encounter these were definitely the absolute last people he would have thought to be behind those hoods. The only people less likely would be a member of the royal family and that would never happen.

He felt like his whole body had turned to stone. His eyes wide with surprise he tried to focus on his younger brothers. His mind raced to a thousand things. What are they doing here? Who was the woman with them? He found that they didn't look astonishingly different then when he had left. In his absence from his home Chip had found himself almost in tears at moments wondering how much his family and home had changed without him and to his delight these two seemed to be exactly the same right down to their stupid immaturity.

All thoughts of confusion set aside Chips stomach almost dropped out of the bottom of him and within seconds he was in the arms of his dear siblings. There was so much laughter and noise that it was as if no one else was in the room.

For a moment they all seemed to be in tears at the same time. Chip found that he couldn't get a real question out no matter how hard he tried. He had dreamed of seeing his family again so often that it almost seemed like this just couldn't possibly be real. After much enthusiasm between the group Chip finally had to step back and find his bearings.

'Oh what a sight' he thought to himself in delight. His brothers, they really were standing there in front of him.

Louise, on the other hand, was not impressed. It was a failing of hers, to say the least that she did not like to share her things. She had no family and for years had lived off her own wits. Chip, on the other hand, had been alone when he had come to Fortesque Manor. He was British by nationality but had a thick French accent all the same. He was mysterious and foreign, with French taste in food and decoration and happened to be a superb dancer. Louise had found that people who are far away from home and unfamiliar with their surroundings need companionship and she intended to give him all the companionship he would require. He wouldn't need his _family _anymore and perhaps with his connections to French royalty she would have that castle she had always wanted.

But the arrival of his brothers meant something was amiss in Chips life and that meant change. Not to mention Chip's attention was so wholly diverted from her and her whole world that she found herself extremely resentful of these men that had just walked into her home uninvited.

Chip was starting to come back to his senses and found himself watching his brothers intently. He wanted to throw his arms around them again and set down to have a long talk about everything. Oh, it had been his hearts desire for years. But Chip was an astute man and just as quickly as his joy had come it suddenly slipped away. Having them here meant they weren't in France. He had not received any news from France whatsoever and in their case no news was good news.

"Armand? Lamont?" Chip began, still smiling but with eyes reading worry as he gazed into their lovely, dirt-stained faces. "Did Christian send you here?" It was the most sensible question to start with. Surely there was some obvious explanation to their abrupt visit that he had simply missed.

Lamont looked at Armand quickly and in return Armand glanced back at Lamont. There was a silent communication going on between the two that Chip did not understand. The alarmed look on Lamont's face was only causing Chip's apprehension to mount in intensity. 'Don't jump to conclusions' he scolded himself.

Armand, always the assertive one, shifted his weight and looked around.

"It's good to see you Chip." He said, not answering the question. "We have some news for you but before we go into that…." Armand paused trying to be as discreet as he could he looked meaningfully at Louise. He was surprised at the way she stood. Her hips thrust out at an erotic angle along with her dress that was far too low cut for the hour of the day. Her face was painted with rouge and white powder to make her skin look less brown then it was and she had a protective hand on Chip's arm that was a little too friendly in it's implication. Armand cleared his throat and then looked back at Chips face. "We are tired and…. Rather gamy." He smiled and Lamont let out a laugh in agreement to the statement. Surely the maid would get the hint that they were in need of a bath and would hop to work.

He was wrong.

Louise took a step forward and stood beside Chip and looked at the two men suspiciously. "You can take a moment to explain why you would travel all the way from France. You come here unexpected into _our_ home. For what purpose? Why _are_ you here?"

The statement hung in the hair for a moment as if no one was able to process it.

Lamont rolled his eyes in frustration. Wasn't it enough that he was enduring one opinionated female who had decided that the world was at her command? Did he really have to answer to this tart of a maid?

Armand looked down for a moment and then up again at Louise. Clearly he would have to be firmer for the message to get across.

"Mademoiselle, forgive me. We have traveled a long way, as you said. We have been traveling with our companion here," Armand paused to gesture at the woman behind him who only shifted her weight to make sure that no one could see her face. " -Who needs to rest before we take our leave once more. Our business is a matter of great importance to your _Master _Christoph," Armand's voice lingered on the word 'Master' "And we require an audience with him _alone_. If you would be so kind as to bring us something to eat and drink we would be most grateful."

Sure that he had been as kind and clear as possible Armand looked again at Chip for support.

Louise' blood boiled at this boy's frankness. She took a menacing step towards him and opened her mouth to retaliate to his request when to her surprise Chip's hand came and gripped her upper arm firmly. He gently pulled her back towards him and she whirled around to face him with disbelief written on her face. Chip shook his head and looked down at her solemnly.

"Louise. Please do as he says."

Everyone in the room was strongly reminded of the fact that he was Master here at this Manor while his Tutor was away. It was rather strange to him to be that powerful.

Louise felt betrayal stroke every vein in her body. He was dismissing her. He didn't want her company amidst his family. She glared at him and pulled her arm away.

"Is that an order, _Master_ Christoph?" She whispered to him through gritted teeth. Chip nodded to her, keeping all emotion from his face. Something was not right with his brothers and clearly it was no business that should be discussed with anyone else but him.

Louise nodded and gritted her teeth with sheer fury.

"I suppose it has something to do with this bit of filth they've drug in with them." She said tossing her head in the woman's direction.

"Was she some tramp you used in France? Is that why I'm not good enough to be here?"

Chip felt his mouth go dry at Louise' complete turn of mood. He had never seen her this angry and found that she no longer looked beautiful at all. She was actually rather frightening. He shook his head violently. "No, Louise… I--"

But before he could speak she had already walked right between the brothers and before they could stop her she reached her hand up to the tall woman behind them and had ripped her hood off her face.

Chip had thought that there wasn't a shock bigger then his brothers just showing up out of nowhere but somehow fate had managed something even grander. For right before him stood a woman he both recognized and did not recognize in so many ways.

At first he had thought it was Belle standing before him, but after the initial shock he realized that this person couldn't be the Queen. She was much taller then Belle, her features larger, with her mouth slightly more puckered, almost identical to a man Chip cared for very much.

He blinked several times and then looked deeply at the muddy, tear-stained face of the woman and realized that he was looking into the face of Sophia-Belle. Somehow this was Christian's daughter. Chip found himself holding his breath as he looked at her. She was so much older, so much bigger then when he had left six years ago. She was dressed like a lady, she had breasts….

Chip found himself unable to register that the little girl he had known so well could have turned into such a grand looking woman. Where Louise had been beautiful, Sophia was ethereal. Her looks, though slightly masculine in their proportion were devastatingly beautiful. This was a Queen standing in front of him and he hadn't even realized it until now.

Chip attempted to drop to one knee and bow his head at the same time and only managed to look stupid as he took a step forward then one back bobbing his head trying to decide whether to show his respects to the Princess or continue to stare at her.

Louise looked around shocked at Chip's reaction and glared at Armand and Lamont for an answer. Armand gave a tired sigh and finally said

"Mademoiselle Louise, this is Princess Sophia-Belle. The _only_ daughter of the King of France."

Once again there was stunned silence. Sophia felt her heart race in her chest at this whole altercation. It was bizarre and she found herself not only loathing this outspoken maid but also wondering what exactly it was that had happened between her and Chip. Sophia had not thought for a moment that Chip could have found someone here in England. He was supposed to be studying. It made no sense to her at all.

Louise narrowed her eyes in realization at who this was.

"Princess?" She finally said looking at Chip. "This is the little Princess you always spoke about? I suppose you forgot to inform me that she wasn't so little."

He looked to Louise pleadingly. His head was screaming at him that everything was just moving too fast for him to keep things strait.

"Louise, I didn't--" But once again Chip was unable to finish a sentence.

"Of course." Louise said cutting him off. "You didn't know? Is that right?"

She paused taking a step towards him as if she was preparing to attack. "You never seem to know anything, do you?"

She shook her head, unable to keep the tears from coming into her eyes.  
"I'll be getting your tea, Master Christoph." She made her way to the door not looking at anyone but Chip. "Besides," she said with her hand on the doorframe. "Who could compete with a princess?"

Chip had almost half a mind to follow her as she turned her head and walked out the door but he found that, deep down, he just wasn't sure he wanted her back.

Turning to face his now captive audience, all of whom were wondering what else Chip had been doing here in England instead of studying.

He took a turn around the room with his hand on his head, stealing glances at Sophia before looking away quickly. Finally he stopped and faced the three before him. He paused trying to find some reasonable conclusion as to why these three people were now standing in his sitting room. But then couldn't and just blurted out "Armand? Lamont? What are you doing here?"

His eyes narrowed at them demanding an immediate answer. Lamont moved uncomfortably to the side and wondered if this was going to end well.

"Well you see Chip, we've had some…. Problems." He finally said trying to keep things from getting out of hand.

"Problems? What do you mean problems?" He looked from Armand to Lamont in turns trying to read an answer out of them. "If you had problems why are you here?" Again he paused, stealing another look at Sophia. "And what in God's name is the Princess doing here?"

Chip placed his hands on his hips watched his brothers as they frantically looked at each other for support. No one said a word though and Chip's alarm at the situation was growing in intensity. "Brothers, Where is Christian?"

" That's just it, Chip! Christian isn't much of a king these days and well…." Jumping in for his brother Lamont finished the sentence

"Well… we just thought that perhaps Sophia might be better off here…"

He trailed off, eyes flicking from side to side, as if this would explain everything.

Chip felt a pang of panic at his brother's words. His eyes widened in surprise as he tried to process what they were saying.

"Oh my God!! You kidnapped the Princess!!!?? Armand!! You kidnapped Sophia and brought her here??!!"

Both Armand and Lamont put their arms up in defense at the accusation.

"No! We didn't!" Lamont cried out realizing that he needed to keep his mouth shut from now on.

"Chip, we didn't kidnap her. We _had_ to bring her with us." Armand finished lamely.

Chip bent his head in confusion. "What do you mean you _had_ to? Both of you better explain yourself this instant. What do you think you're doing here?"

Armand looked behind himself at Sophia and knew that he would have to leave some of the explaining to her.

"Chip… something has happened… something terrible."

Silence reigned for a few moments as Chip tried to understand the situation before him. He swallowed twice and looked at his brothers full in the face.

"What has happened?" He paused for a moment when no one spoke "Is Christian… Is Christian dead?"

Lamont shrugged his shoulders as Armand shook his head uncertainly

"We don't know."

Chip let the air out of his lungs quickly, not having realized he had been holding his breath. After a few moments Armand looked about the lavish room and then spoke.

"Chip…. I don't suppose you've thought much about your childhood recently?"

The sudden change in conversation was irritating and Chip wondered what Armand was getting at.

"No, I don't suppose I have." He replied testily.

"Well, you might want to start thinking about it just a little bit. We need your help…"

Chip folded his arms in exasperation. "And what in the world do you possibly think anything from my childhood could do to help you with……."

Chip froze in place, his mind flashing over images of a dark abandoned castle. Of a little teacup with a chip in the rim and a tendency for making mischief. He saw dark rooms and tortured statuary. He saw a large grotesque animal suffering in his silent prison.

Chip looked up from his position. He had been gazing down at the floor trying to allow his thoughts to catch up with him. His throat began to close up in panic as both of his brothers looked at him sympathetically knowing that he was finally putting it together.

He shook his head quickly and silently implored his brothers to deny it.

"No…. It can't be…… The spell came back?"

Armand and Lamont nodded their heads without saying a word.

"But…. I'm not… you're not…. How? How can this be?"

"We don't know Chip, but you're the only one we could think of who could help us. You were there."

"So were you!! What did you think I could do?"

Now both Armand and Lamont realized that this hasty plan they had about Chip being some grand answer to their problems now seemed a little ridiculous. Armand threw up his hands in frustration.

"Chip, the villagers are back! They came back! We barely got out of there! When we left the whole castle was on fire! If you can't fix the spell you can at least help us find them! If there's anyone else left to find."

For the first time in the whole conversation Sophia spoke, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Why can't you fix the spell?"

For a moment no one spoke. The boys had all but forgotten she was standing behind them and the second her voice hit Chip's ears something changed. Her voice was as sweet as raindrops falling gently on fields in the spring he found himself being enchanted; soul, heart, and mind.

He blinked several times and looked deeply into her large brown eyes. She looked even more like Belle then he had realized when she had first shown her face.

"Well…. Because your highness. I'm…. I'm not a magician. I'm an illusionist. Master Dominic cannot work magic. He only knows how it could be worked. He taught me, but….."

He stuttered and paused and she closed her eyes slowly as she realized what he was saying.

"You can't do anything…"

Her words were so forlorn and pathetic and were the worst thing she could have said to him. He almost wished she had castrated him instead. It would have felt about as manly.

He heaved a large sigh, knowing that the longer they stood here, the less time they had to get her back into France before she was hunted down like an animal and caught to be sold for ransom. This whole thing was senseless and someone had to take control of the situation.

"Alright. Well… We have to find the others. Someone must have gotten out of that castle, aside from you three. Do you know where they would have gone Armand?"

He shook his head dejectedly and Lamont followed suit. Chip nodded his head trying to remember his training from his days in the guard.

"Well, I might have an idea if they didn't tell you exactly what their escape plan would be. If we leave now we might be able to catch up with them. They'll be traveling north to one of the outposts. If the spell really is working the way you say it is then there will be strange things happening to the land and everyone who comes in contact with us. We have to steer clear of being recognized. They'll be looking for her." Chip nodded his head in Sophia's direction. He took a deep breath and then nodded again looking around himself at his rooms. "We leave in one hour. Get cleaned up, change your clothes and meet me down in the stables. Tell no one here where we are going. Word will already be traveling fast about what is happening in France."

Lamont shook his head. "But Chip, what about the rest of your schooling? You're not going to just leave are you?"

He nodded to his younger brother, paused for a moment, and then spoke.

"In reality Lamont, I'm ready to go home. Even if there isn't a home to go to."

"What of this Louise?" Armand asked with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Chip gave his brother a pained look "She'll be alright. I don't think she would have liked France anyways." He gave a ghost of a smile and then led the other three out the door of the sitting room.


	21. Into the Woods

_Alright, so I had a terrible time writing this chapter. For the first time since I started this story I actually sat down and read the whole thing. All in all I'm fairly proud of my work and except for one chapter that I wish I had spent more time revising I felt like it was a good representation of my love of Beauty and the Beast. But I was afraid as I read this chapter that I was losing some of the simplicity I once had in the work. After a while I have decided that any good story has to sometimes divert from the original plot. You can't always have Belle and the Beast standing there with some heart-rending dialogue. Those things are only good after a great deal of adversity and sometimes rhetoric. _

_This Chapter focuses basically on the in-between travel with Chip and Sophia as the main characters focused here. Sophia can't stay the same spoiled brat she's always been and Chip had to eventually grow up. So if you're reading this and you're getting sick of the same old travel… well.. so am I, but it was necessary. I worked hard on it though, so I hope you'll review because… it's important to me._

_Just on a side note. After about an hour of studying maps of France I need to clarify that the particular forest they keep referring to is accurately the forest of Compiegne. It's very near Picardy France and it reminds me very much of the movies depiction of the forest the castle was in. I'm not really going for amazing accuracy. If I was Christian wouldn't actually be a king…. Or a prince… or anything. I've taken creative liberties_ and I like them. If you hate that… well review it. That will make me happy. 

**Chapter Twenty-One: Into the Woods**

**________________________________________________________________________**

The journey to the coast was not the difficult part. The real trouble came when they couldn't get safe passage back to France.

Chip wasn't sure when the last time was that he had been this irritated.

"Alright Sir" He began once again, speaking very slowly to emphasize how stupid he thought the captain was of the particular ship they were trying to board with.

"All we want is four. Four small spaces for us to use on your boat. We are willing to pay you more then it's worth to let us all aboard. If you would be so kind as to just cooperate and allow us all to use your services we would be most obliged to you."

Chip shifted his weight. He had been standing here arguing with this man for almost twenty minutes. Captain Durham was his name and had been in the fishing and boating business since he was eight years old. Never a day of formal training or education in his life he had lived the last twenty years of his existence ferrying people from one end of the channel to the next. Never in those years had he seen such an influx of people who wanted to get into France and then equally that many people who wanted to get out. From the gossip on both ends of the water it sounded like there had been some strange revolution among the French people and the Royal family had been massacred. But then that was no surprise to Durham. Sounded like the treacherously underhanded French to him. 'May they all rot in Hell' he thought to himself.

There was a rumor that some of the children had escaped somehow and were either coming or going from France to England. It depended on the person he was questioning but according to the rumors everyone was on the alert. Surely a fortune waited in Paris for anyone with a Royal brat in tow. Now, standing on the banks, he was taking every advantage of anyone he could. He wasn't exactly looking for a prince or princess, that was a young man's game, but desperate people who had to get from one end or the other would pay what was necessary.

And now he was dealing with this French whelp who had finally hit the last nerve.

"Listen to me boy! You have two spaces and you have the lesser of five seconds to pay for them or I'm giving them to someone else. The next ferry across is in twelve hours, the rest of you can wait until then."

Chip opened his mouth to retaliate and made a disgruntled noise of protest when Durham stamped his foot.

"Five, four, three, two--"

Chip put up his hands and shook his head. "Alright!" he called out. "Alright, here's your money. Just give me a moment to speak to my comrades and we will board in a moment." He handed the man a large amount of money and noted with some sense of disgust that the ship captain was missing three fingers on his right hand and an ear.

He shook his head again and then walked back to where Armand, Lamont, and Sophia had been waiting. Sophia had a truly bored look on her face but it seemed to brighten considerably when she saw Chip coming. He rubbed his hands together and then looked at his little group. Shaking his head to indicate that he was still furious over the arrangements, he faced his two brothers.

"Alright you two. You are going to take the two spots I just paid for."

Armand looked at his brother in surprise. "You're not coming with us?"

"No" Chip replied.

Lamont shook his head. "Well then, we'll wait till we can all go together."

Chip bent down and picked up the saddle-bag and handed it to the younger of his two brothers. "We have to get started. The longer we wait the less chance we have of finding anyone. You two are going to go ahead of us. Take the main road but don't talk to anyone on the way. Keep to yourselves. I don't want anything happening to you. Magic seems to have a strange effect on the populous. Especially people as superstitious as the French peasantry."

"But what about you?" Armand interjected.

Chip smiled at his brother. "I'll be fine."

Lamont shook his head again. "But you'll have Sophia with you, how are you going to keep her safe?"

Chip placed a hand on each of their shoulders and steered them away from the princess.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of her. You two kept her safe and I'm proud of you." He paused for a moment. "We won't be far behind you. If we're lucky we'll meet up before you get as far as the village of Dolongue."

"If you Frenchys plan on sailing on this boat you better get aboard this very instant!" Durham called from his spot on the banks. Armand nodded his head, pulled the strap of the saddle-bag over his shoulder and without hesitation wrapped his arms around Chip. Lamont followed suit and they both stood for a moment looking at each other.

"Be safe." Armand said to Chip and then nodded half-heartedly to Sophia. They were doing their best not to draw any attention to her any more then they would a common traveling wench. They had already gotten a few sideways looks in her direction.

Then without another word both boys walked up the plank and onto the boat. It was cramped to it's capacity and neither of them bothered trying to find a spot on deck where they could wave but merely sat down in a comfortable corner below deck to wait for departure. They would be in France soon enough and they had a long journey before them. If they were lucky they could catch a nap in before they arrived back on the coast.

_______________________________________________________________________

Hours later Chip and Sophia were traveling on their own boat. If Sophia had been uncomfortable on the way to England she was downright miserable on the way back. Her backside was so sore it caused tears of pain to come to her eyes. She sat upon her wooden crate, rocking back and forth and despite herself she let out a whimper of pain. Chip had been leaning against the walls, his head on his arms which were folded on his knees. He looked up at the princess from his position on the floor. Feeling unsure what to say to her he cleared his throat uncomfortably. It caught her attention and she turned her head to face him.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly.

She nodded affirmatively. There was a long pause between the two as neither said anything to one another. He relaxed, leaning his upper body against the wall of the ship. Running a hand along the hair of his face he tried to imagine this girl in the courts of Rose Castle. Surely she must have stood out like a star. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, though she definitely was. For Chip, it was like a ray of sunshine. He was now sitting with Sophia-Belle. A girl he had spent hours with as a young teenage boy in Rose Castle. To him, he was seated next to a little piece of home.

"You look different." Her voice spoke, breaking his thoughts. He chuckled a little bit down onto his knees.

"_I _look different? The last time I saw you, you were ten years old and running about your fathers legs, getting in his way."

It was as if he had turned out a light in her eyes. She shifted her weight on her seat and dropped her gaze to the floor. For a long moment no one spoke. But not knowing what to say, Chip could only sit and wonder what was going on in this girl's head. Nothing about the whole situation made sense. Why was she here now? Where was Christian? Where was Belle? These people had been constants throughout Chip's whole life and he couldn't imagine it without them. He felt himself determined not to even try. He would find them because deep down in his heart, he believed that if they were even somewhere in the world, then everything would be alright.

Sophia listened to the silence that was made after Chip's nostalgic statement. Her mind wandered back to those days. It seemed like a lifetime ago. She wondered if it hadn't really been a hundred years and not just six.

"Why did you leave?" She asked quietly but with every hint of reproach.

Feeling bewildered he answered honestly, not knowing if there was another meaning behind her question.

"I left because that is what your father asked me to do."

Her face screwed up into an ugly expression of anger and resentment.

"Well that sounds like him." She said quietly enough that it almost seemed like she was saying it to herself.

Chip felt even more confused then before.

"I'm happy to do as my King asks, Princess. It is an honor to my family to serve your father."

To his surprise, Sophia snorted in disgust at his words.

"You sound like a perfect copy of everyone else. You people can't seem to have an original thought when it comes to my father."

Chip felt slightly alarmed at her words. This wasn't the Sophia he remembered. Who was this girl?

"I'm not sure I understand you. Christian is a great King."

"He's a worthless King." She replied with venom, not really knowing why she was saying it but allowing it to exit her mouth anyways. Chip felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise in irritation. He slowly got to his feet, but still remained close to the wall, not wanting to appear threatening.

"How could you say something like that? He's your father."

She stood up quickly to mirror him but then took a step forward. Her purpose _was_ to appear menacing.

"And what would you know about it. You've been gone for six years. You have no idea what he's like."

Chip felt anger well up inside of him as he glared at Sophia.

"I don't care what he's like. You are lucky to even have a father!"

She put her hands on her hips, as if this would emphasize a point.

"And how much of a father do you think he is? What kind of a father hides everything about himself from his daughter?! What kind of a father turns into a _beast!! _Am I really supposed to believe that he didn't deserve it!? Does that speak of what kind of a father he is? If he's such a great king why has all this happened?"

Chip felt a little sick at her words. He didn't like this girl one bit and wondered how two wonderful people like Christian and Belle could have such a horrible daughter. Didn't seem possible.

" And did you have something to do with it, Sophia? Because from the sounds of it you could possibly be that horrible!"

Chip was utterly shocked by his own words. If his mother had heard him talking to a lady that way, let alone a princess, she would have boxed his ears. As it was though, he refused to apologize or take them back. Instead he stood his ground giving Sophia an accusing look she could not misunderstand. She in turn felt red-hot rage course through her veins.

"How _dare_ you speak to me like that. And how _dare_ you accuse me of such things. You forget that you are _nothing_ but a lowly kitchen boy and you should learn your place!"

Chip tossed his head in aggravation and retaliated almost faster then his mouth could move.

"Yes, but until I touch French soil I don't have to answer to anyone. Let alone a _harpy _like _you_!"

Sophia stamped her foot. She had never once, in her entire life been spoken to like this. It was humiliating and infuriating and she wanted to lash out with hands and feet and do any kind of harm to him she could. And under any other circumstances she would have but for the anger she felt she could not move anything but her mouth. Her entire body seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"Get out of my sight!! You ignorant peasant!!"

Chip whirled around on his heel and threw open the cabin door shouting over his shoulder.

"Viscous spoiled selfish _wench_!!"

Right before he slammed the door behind him and Sophia sunk back onto her crate with tears once again streaming down her cheeks.

It was almost a half-hour of stewing on the deck of the ship before Chip's fury dissipated. As he stood staring out at the waves a growing sense of shame crept into his heart and he wanted to bang his head on the railings in frustration at himself. She was almost a decade younger then him and he had fought with her as if he were a small child. He knew better then that. So did she, for that matter, but that didn't excuse his words. They had been foul and he wasn't entirely sure why he had allowed himself to get that angry. It was something about _her_ that infuriated him. Or flustered him, he couldn't seem to say anything correctly when he was around her. In any other circumstance he would have found a girl like that immature, arrogant, and wholly unworthy of his time. But for some strange reason he could not explain, Sophia had captured his attentions.

At first he had just assumed that it was the fact that she was the Princess. Naturally, that made sense. But after a while he decided it had to be more then that. Something he couldn't put his finger on, so he filed it away into the back of his mind and tried not to dwell on it too much. If he couldn't understand it, then he might as well forget about it.

Taking a slow trip back below deck he sighed deeply to himself before pushing the cabin door open. Sophia had not moved from her crate but her face was red and blotchy from crying. She looked up as he entered the room, and then quickly turned her face away, slightly twisting her sore body with her. She wanted him to know that he wasn't welcome near her.

This was the strangest situation she had ever been. Everything was foreign to her and for the first time in her life she was being forced to not only think but to also be resourceful with her own limited knowledge of things. Sophia had spent her entire life in study, that being a principle asset to her father's strict regiment of character building activities he had instilled upon her. But nothing, no book she had ever touched in the library, had ever prepared her for this entire journey she was on.

The smell of the chopping water, the dirt under her nails, traveling alone with a young man she barely knew anymore. All these things were enough to send a girl into a raving fit. She was totally unprepared for the floods of emotions that were hitting her harder then she ever could have expected. She had decided that if she lived through this whole thing she would have to write a book about it.

As it was she was frightened about the future, frightened of the grim prospects of trying to figure out a way out of this mess, and her one and only traveling partner was turning out to be a complete lout. Or so she had decided.

At the same time there was some semblance of awe in her. True, he had dared challenge her which no one in their right minds had ever done before. Except when you turned around that was, in and of itself, braver then anything she had ever known… well except her father of course, but he didn't count.

This Chip, whoever he was now, wasn't afraid of her. That was strange and in many ways exhilarating. He was different and it was still undecided whether she was going to like that or not.

Chip walked quietly over to her and without being invited sat down next to her on her crate. With another deep sigh he leaned forward into his elbows.

"I'm sorry." He finally said quietly. "I want you to know that I didn't mean those things I said. The truth is Princess, you're right when you said that I don't know what has happened at the castle. But I hope you won't think that I thought any of it was your fault…. Or your fathers."

Sophia sat very still for a few moments trying to gather a response. She knew his apology was sincere and in turn she knew that she must apologize. It was something she had vowed never to do. _'Never apologize for anything, you are a Princess.'_ Had been the words of her last governess. But deep down she knew she needed to swallow that. He needed to hear her say it. Unfortunately she had no practice at all so the best she could muster out in the direction of her hands was "Me too."

Luckily for Sophia, Chip was extremely accepting of the faults of the Rosienne family. Having lived with Christian his whole life he had come to know when they were truly making an effort and this was one of those times.

Slowly he handed her a leather satchel and a small packet of rock hard biscuits. She took them out of his hand and looked at him bemusedly.

"What is it?"

"Just a water pouch and some biscuits. Bought them from a man in another cabin. Waters clean enough."

She took a small sip and barely managed to gulp it down. Her face registered disgust as she looked inside the small pouch. The water was stale and dirty tasting.

Chip chuckled slightly. "Now don't turn your nose up at it. We have a long way to go and you need to get something inside of you. No use hoping a clan of servants will show up with a roast turkey and red wine on a silver platter. This is the best we're going to get for a while."

Sitting quietly together Sophia's thoughts swirled around and around until they would have driven her mad. She was equal parts furious and disheartened. Indeed, yes, they were heading in the right direction of her home but when they reached it, what were they going to find there? Her life as she had always known it was changed and the worst part of that was that it _had_ been her greatest wish. She had wanted things to spiral into a different direction. If only she had known then what it was like….

A tear slipped down her cheek and despite her best efforts Chip noticed. He immediately rummaged into his saddle-bag to find a handkerchief that was always stored with his clothes. It was an aristocratic thing he would have to get used to. Without thinking he leaned over and dabbed at her face. He was finding allot more as he grew older and into his manhood that men, including himself, don't like to see women cry. It's like having a leaky roof, you just have to fix it. Unfortunately he was also finding out the hard way, that women have allot of problems and strange as it seems they are not always fixable. Why, he wasn't sure if he would ever be certain. With men, you could just go and throw around your sword for a while. Or shoot things with your bow and arrow, or _someone_ if the occasion called for it and when you were done, everything was all better. But that wasn't the way it was with women. The problems just never seem to plausibly go away. It was a mystery he was bent on solving one day.

Sophia felt little shoots of electricity that caused the skin on her arms to prickle as Chip's rough hands brushed her cheek in his attempt to dry her tears. She wasn't entirely sure why but even that simple gesture caused even more tears to come on. There was just something about him She let out a small sob and bent her head down lower over her body.

After a few moments she finally whispered. "I wish I had never run away from home."

Chip was unsure what she could have been talking about. His knowledge on the entire subject of the reasons behind their journey were limited to a few meaningful looks that Armand and Lamont had given Chip when Sophia's name had come up in their conversations. He had been suspicious the whole time that there was allot more to this story then the simple idea that _'the spell'_ had just come back on his own. But he was starting to think that perhaps he had been a little more accurate about her involvement then he had meant to be when they were arguing.

"Well," he began, knowing he was treading on thin ice. "I'm not sure why you would have wanted to."

She sobbed again and several tears splashed onto her ugly English-made gown.

"That's because I don't want you to know."

"Why is that?"

It was a horrible feeling. That same awful vulnerability she had felt standing in front of her father and mother totally naked.

"Because," She finally whispered, realizing she might as well say it. She'd already gotten herself in this far. "You'll hate me if you know."

Chip almost smiled but downed it quickly. He didn't want her to think he was mocking her pain.

"I doubt that." He whispered.

She said nothing and he was starting to worry that she wasn't going to. Taking a bit of chance he finally said. "Listen Sophia, I don't know what has happened here… but I'd like to. And…. I can't do much unless I know what I'm facing." He paused for a moment, giving her time to let his words sink in.

"We have some time before the boat docks and…. A very _long_ journey ahead of us. If we're going to try and make this right…." He paused again becoming aware that perhaps this little speech wasn't just for Sophia. He believed his words as well.

"And I want you to know that… you and I… _we_ can make it right if you want to. But… I can't do it without your help."

Sophia looked up at him into his eyes. Someone who needed her help? That was something she had not heard in her entire life. She nodded slowly at him and he leaned himself up against the wall, his head against the window.

"Alright, start from the beginning."

Hours later Chip was once again making his way below deck. The story was out and now they were both thoroughly sick of the boat they were on and ready to get started on the journey that would take them both back to their home. Whether that was a good thing, or bad.

Chip swallowed hard and entered the cabin. Sophia was standing near the window but gave Chip a small smile and then turned back to gaze outside as the French countryside was just starting to come into view.

Pulling his saddle bag off his shoulder he realized he was once again sticking his hand into the lions mouth but an idea had come to him while he was listening to the captain and a few members of the crew talk on the deck. It had not been a pleasant conversation to overhear.

"Ummm Sophia?"

She turned around and looked at him. Her eyes were still red and swollen from crying but her mood seemed to have lifted a bit since their last conversation.

"Yes?" She replied.

He shuffled his foot just enough to make him seem even more like the blond haired boy that had left Rose castle six years ago.

"I need you to do me a favor." He said and then pulled out his second set of clothing from his saddle bag. They were a very well tailored set of breeches with a white linen shirt and a an embroidered jacket to match the fine leather boots. All were fairly rich clothing by English standards. Sophia looked puzzled as he held them out to her.

"What do you want me to do?" She finally asked.

He swallowed again and then looked down as he quickly said.

"I need you to put these on."

There was a dead silence as neither of them spoke. Sophia pulled her shawl closer to her body and regarded Chip as if he had somehow confused himself and stood in need of some correction.

"Chip… Those are men's clothing." She stated slowly, emphasizing the word _'men's'_

Chip nodded but did not retract his outstretched hand.

"I know. I need you to wear these."

Sophia felt a blush reach her cheeks and shook her head violently.

"I cannot wear those." She said with ardor. "I am a princess! Do you know what people would _say _if they knew that a princess was wearing men's clothing! It just isn't done!"

Chip felt a stab of impatience but downed it, knowing what kind of argument they were now capable of getting into.

"Sophia," he began softly "I realize that. But I was just up deck and I heard some men talking. They said that there are people all over the shore looking for you or your parents or anyone. The captain of just _this_ boat was telling his crew members of how he wasn't going to let anyone on board from France unless they allowed him to examine them for runaways. It's only a matter of time before someone spots you."

He paused for a moment letting her think for a moment.

"You look so much like your mother, Sophia…. I think this will help you stay hidden for a while."

Sophia's blush increased as she thought about being examined by some random man with a thirst for the pile of gold waiting for anyone who could ransom a royal family member. And then, for some reason she could not identify, her thoughts strayed to her father and the vision of his face on the night she was brought back to the castle totally naked crept into her mind. He had looked so disappointed and disgusted by her. She could easily pick out every worry line around his eyes, and the ones of regret around his mouth.

She swallowed hard as the humiliation seeped into her again but she nodded obediently, knowing that by now she had to trust Chip's judgment. It was the best she had right now. She took the clothes silently and examined them a bit before finally saying to him.

"I…. I need help getting out of my dress."

Chips eyes flew open in surprise. "You cannot dress yourself?"

Sophia felt her own stab of impatience. "No! I cannot—I cannot do it myself." She stammered, feeling the heat rise in her face hotter then ever, despite the cool winds coming in through the cracks in the ship.

Chip's hands went a bit sweaty as he realized he had not thought that she wouldn't be able to dress herself. But then he did remember that a maid had helped her into these clothes back in England and even worse was that of course she had never put on men's clothing before and they had their own sets of buttons and ties that would be foreign to her.

He nodded and then smiled weakly as if he was trying to be reassuring.

"That's alright." He said, a little to himself. "I can do that… I can he- help you."

Sophia griped the clothing even harder and nearly swallowed her tongue but not wanting to make this situation more excruciating then it already was she turned herself around so that her back was facing him.

For all of Chip's experience with Louise he was ill-prepared for any kind of personal physical contact. A long row of very small buttons ran all the way down the back of the dress Sophia wore. The color of cloves and so tightly woven across her full frame it was no wonder aristocratic women could not dress or un-dress themselves.

Nervously Chip set down the saddle-bag and put his hands up to the high part at the back of Sophia's neck. As gently as he could he un-buttoned the first button. She shivered but did not protest, though he heard a small sniffle as her arm went up to her mouth to stifle the sound. Trying to ignore the increasing awkwardness Chip un-buttoned the second button and then a third. Without realizing it he allowed his index finger to stroke the soft hairs that ran along the skin between the tops of her shoulders. At the contact, Sophia shivered again and pulled away slightly.

"Sorry." Chip whispered. "I have rough hands. I'm not used to……..

"Undressing women?" She interjected.

He let out a small chuckle to try and relive some of the tension but the only noise that came out of his mouth sounded a bit strangled. Sophia decided now was a good time to thank God that her mother wasn't here to see this.

As Chip started to go along the buttons of the dress again his hands weren't cooperating very well and they started to shake. Or was that the rest of his body shaking and his hands were just so slippery with sweat that he couldn't tell the difference?

It was at the point that Chip reached Sophia's whale-bone corset that he stopped. He was able to see all of Sophia's long shoulder-blades and the top of her strong back. The white of the corset contrasted dramatically with the color of the dress and Sophia's pale skin.

Chip then had a horrible image of Christian's large hands around his throat with him saying something alone the lines of _'I'll teach you to undress my daughter!'._

He took a staggering step back and Sophia turned her head to look over her shoulder when she realized he was no longer touching her. He shook his head vigorously and let out a long breath of air, having realized that he had been holding it the whole time.

"Er… I can't do this." He took another step away as she turned her whole body around and looked at him, confused at his reaction to her.

Flipping around towards the cabin door he glanced back, only to realize that the sleeve of her dress had dropped to reveal her soft white shoulder.

Putting up his finger, his voice much higher then normal "Just give me a moment. I'll be right back."

Bewildered and embarrassed, Sophia didn't move from her spot. She clutched the soft material of the white shirt to her chest and tried not to think of what would happen if some random stranger were to walk into the room.

It wasn't more then two minutes before Chip returned, quite recovered from his nerves. He was holding the arm of a short, stalky looking women Sophia recognized from when they boarded the boat.

The woman was dirty with a big scar across her cheek. She looked at Sophia's half undressed appearance and then back to Chip.

"This the lass you want me to make look like a lad?"

Chip nodded and smiled at Sophia as if this was going to make things much better. Sophia doubted if she preferred the woman's rough looking hands to Chip's but she remained silent.

"What's so special about her?"

"Nothing." Chip replied.

"Then why are you trying to hide her?"

Chip looked down impatiently as if he was explaining something to a small child.

"Listen Mary, do you want the ten or not?"

Ten refereeing to the ten gold coins he had offered to her to help him and not ask questions. Sophia's jaw dropped at the sum of money he was offering this ferry-wench but was too afraid of receiving her own glare from Chip.

"Yes." Mary replied.

"Then you'll kindly assist the lady and not speak a word about it for the rest of your natural life."

"Show me the money and I'll undress anyone you like."

Chip placed a small leather pouch into her outstretched hand and then walked out of the room before anything else could be said. To Sophia's surprise Mary was adept at undoing the clasps on a corset and was even more skillful at the ties and buttons on the crotch of the breeches Sophia was now swathed in. She wondered to herself for a moment how one could become so proficient at working with men's clothing before she realized that she didn't really want to know.

Mary walked out humming to herself an Irish tune and upon passing Chip gave him a knowing wink. He stepped into the room to see Sophia wearing his clothes, including the leather boots on her feet. Her hair was tied up into the cloth hat on her head and she had her arms wrapped around her waist to try and keep herself from falling apart.

Chip took a step towards her and smiled reassuringly but it only caused Sophia to sniffle and turn her eyes away from him, shame written all over her face.

Chip was just now wishing he had brought allot more handkerchiefs with him.

"Don't cry." He said placing comforting hands on either of her arms. "You look….. very nice."

She shook her head and kept her eyes locked on a knot in the wall.

"I look like a man…" she replied.

He chuckled a little bit putting a hand under her chin and smiled as he tipped her eyes to gaze into his. "Not with that face you don't."

Then as an after thought he walked over to a barrel that had been particularly dirty with soot. He rubbed his hands into the barrel and waved her over to him.

"Here." He said as he smeared the soot around her small mouth and nose. Then still grinning he pulled his hands away and took a step back.

"There. As long as no one gets too close to you, they'll never know that you're really the crowned Princess of France."

For the first time she allowed herself to smile. And perhaps because her teeth looked so white against the black soot on her face, Chip felt dazed at really how beautiful she actually was. How was it that he had managed to be here with her?

Oh, sure, she had gotten herself and her entire family into a right mess but he found that really…. He was almost glad she did. It meant he could go home to the family that loved him and that was worth something. He only hoped that that family would still be there when he finally arrived.

It's unfortunate that our best laid plans really never turn out the way we would like. Upon arriving on the French shore Chip was forced to do some quick thinking. The captain of their boat was not jesting when he said that people were frantic at what seemed like a terrible uprising. To these French citizens their whole system of government had come crashing down and many were uncertain on whether to stay or go. Because of the terror and mass confusion many of the lower types of people were doing a fine job of taking advantage of every simple fool going in and out of France. Mix in a rumor of lost Royal family members and it was enough to create mass panic.

They had made it away from the docks undetected and unmolested but it was half-way through the port-city that Chip came upon a nasty bit of news. He was at the stables of Sir Pierre Badeau buying two lovely looking chestnut mares. The stable master leaned up against the stall Chip was inside, brushing the two animals down. The man was long and burly looking and had been very helpful and polite to the two weary travelers and Chip had spent a good time chatting with him about horses and weather conditions.

After some time had passed he began to saddle the horses with two used saddles that would serve them until they could reach Paris and from there obtain information to the whereabouts of several fortress outposts that the people of Rose Castle might have traveled to. The stable master shifted his weight habitually an then as nonchalantly as someone merely returning to a previous conversation opened his mouth.

"Hope you're not thinking to use the main road, boy."

Chip decided not to make a show that he cared much what the man was saying but equally as nonchalant asked from his crouching position underneath the horses belly.

"Why is that, Sir?"

The man shifted his weight sarcastically and smiled down at Chip.

"Because your Princess here wont be getting out of the city, let alone past the barriers that have been set up every ten leagues by the village magistrates and sheriffs. Makes little difference that you've dressed her up to look like a boy."

Chip slowly rose to his feet casting a quick glance at Sophia. She had sat down to rest on a pile of hay and was now sound asleep, unaware of the conversation going on just ten steps away from her. Chip wondered if he was going to breath any time soon, hoping he hadn't already failed on there journey before it had even started. The man chuckled loudly, threatening to wake the sleeping girl on the hay.

"Now don't piss yourself, lad. I'm no bounty hunter. The whole countries gone mad with something. Always happens when the royal family's been killed or what have you."

Chip bit his tongue and looked at the man imploringly but tried to keep his voice steady.

"Is that what they're saying? That they are dead?"

"Hell if I know." The man replied, pulling out a small box of snuff and offering it Chip. He declined and watched as the stable master snorted a few pinches before continuing.

"But if you ask me there's magic about here and that's none of my know-how. I just keep the horses."

Then more seriously he leaned towards Chip and said softly.

"But I'll tell you this much lad, if you want to keep your Royal lassie safe you're going to have to take her through the back roads and that will lead you right through that forest everyone avoids. You know the one I'm talking about."

Chip felt like a cold fist had suddenly clutched his heart and tried to think before the man started talking again.

"You know, legend says that there was once a castle at the center of that forest. Enchanted forest they used to say, with a giant Beast who lived there. Cursed, they used to say as well, to live their alone."

The man paused thoughtfully and then smiled at Chip as if they shared a secret, neither wanted to say out loud.

"Of course, those stories stopped when the King returned and married that angel of a Queen of his….. well that is until now."

Chip kicked his foot a little bit and then looked back into the mans amused face. He hated the prospect of taking the northern route but he could only trust what the stable master was saying and that meant that he would have to not only get them out of the city quickly but also take them back to where all the trouble had started in the first place.

"I don't suppose you could spare us some food and perhaps a few hunting tools. That is if we're going into that forest we might need them."

The stable master laughed. "You're really going to go that way then?"

Chip nodded. "It doesn't seem like I have much of a choice. I have to keep her safe and undetected until I know what could have happened to her family." He tossed his head in Sophia's direction and the other man nodded genially.

"Wait here. I'll get the things you need." He paused for a moment as he turned around.

"And son, may God have mercy on your souls."

Chips original intentions had been to go the main road. It would lead them almost directly to where Rose castle used to stand, very near the city of Paris. It was almost a weeks journey but he had hoped that by going that way he would have a better idea of how to get to a few of the fortresses that were built on the outskirts of the country.

But there was another road that led you through several villages before entering a forest that covered nearly fifty leagues. Several roads led through the forest, one coming out on the opposite end of where they were. It plopped you right into the village where Belle used to live. The road itself had been used by travelers for over a hundred years including by a small man named Maurice who had intended to travel through the forest to come out on one of the side roads to a fair at a neighboring village.

On any normal day most people would tell you that this forest was older then could be remembered and no one was quite sure if even the first settlers of the area could have told you much about it. Many would say that it was haunted and that strange things happened there. The only ones who dared to live there were cut-throats and gypsy-clans.

But many years ago tales began to spread of a castle that dwelled in the center of the forest and it suddenly became _'The Enchanted forest'_ for most people who went inside told stories of strange enchantments happening to them. Some told of visions of this same castle and others of a massive animal that stalked the grounds waiting for unsuspecting visitors to lure inside. And in many cases men and women alike would enter this forest and were never see again.

While these stories seemed to have resurfaced and were being told on every street corner and every wives circle in France, Chip happened to know that most were true. The enchantments that had held them all bound in the castle had also covered the expanse of the forest and who knows wherever else.

After little debate with himself Chip led Sophia out of the city by way of the side roads. They traveled through fields for a while and stopped very little. And it seemed the closer they came to their destination the more frightened and inhospitable the people were to talk to.

After some time had passed Chip turned around in his saddle and looked at Sophia. She still wore the cap that Mary had put on her head and seemed much quieter then usual.

She gave him barely a twitch of her lips to indicate a smile and then finally spoke.

"Chip?"

He pulled his horse back to walk alongside of her.

"Yes?"

"Are you frightened?"

He thought on this for a while and then finally nodded. "Yes."

"What are you frightened of?" She asked

He looked ahead of them onto the road. "The forest we're heading for."

"But," She began looking puzzled. "If it's so dangerous how did Armand and Lamont go through it so easily?"

Chip chuckled and then looked at her. "Well, I suppose fortune favors the brave….. and the foolish."

"Like my mother? And Papa Maurice?"

Chip shifted in his saddle and then looked at Sophia to see that her question was totally sincere and innocent.

"Yes." He replied. "Both your mother and Maurice were very brave people. At least I think so."

Then after a few moments passed he asked. "Are _you_ frightened?"

She nodded her head immediately.

"What is it that frightens you?"

She paused for a moment and then looked at him.

"I'm frightened that… That I've already run out of time to do all the things in my life that I wanted to before I have to be all the things I don't."

He looked at her thoughtfully and then smiled.

" Do you remember our little band of children that lived at the castle? How we all would meet together secretly when all the grown-up's weren't watching?"

She smiled as well and nodded her head. "Your brothers and sisters and Celestine."

"And you." He finished her sentence and then continued with his thoughts. "We were such a ragtag group, were we not? I remember you and Celestine wanted to go along with us so often and many times you had to stay behind because you were the princess and your parents had so many things you had to be and do."

Sophia again nodded her head and frowned deeply. "I hated it. All I ever wanted to do was go with you. I believe I wished every day that I could just be like everyone else."

Chip shook his head slightly and then continued. "But you see that's just the thing. The rest of us…. We would watch you go and…. We could not tell you how much each one of us wished that for just a moment we could have what you had."

Sophia looked at him in surprise and opened her mouth to say something back but he stopped her.

"No, wait. Don't misunderstand me, we are all happy, but we were happy because we had you with us. Do you think a group of boys would bring along an eight year old if it had been anyone but you?" 

She glared at her horses head. "Is that only because I was a princess?"

Chip shook his head "No. It was because you were you. Because if there was anyone in the whole world who was brave and… and… in love with life… it was you. You were everything." 

Sophia felt like her tongue had suddenly become too large for her mouth. But Chip wasn't finished yet.

"And so if there was anyone that could make things happen, I know you can…. And when we get out of this and everything is alright again… you are the person who can do what it takes to make changes happen. Whatever those changes are."

"That is if we get out of this alive." She added on cynically.

Chip shook his head with amusement and urged his horse forward into a trot. "Actually, I think with that temper of yours you could scare away anything we might meet in the forest. I don't think I have anything to worry about when you're with me. "


	22. Barbara Ellen

_Authors Note: Okedy- Dokely. I loved writing this chapter and I am loving writing the subsequent chapters that will follow it. My only concern is that I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this. I hope there's someone out there. In regards to the chapter itself I used 'Barbara Ellen' in reference to one of my favorite authors. She wrote a couple of 'Beauty and the Beast' stories and one of them had a reoccurring theme of a line from the song. This story doesn't mirror hers at all but I I love her dearly. A brownie point to anyone who can name the book I'm talking about. :) _

_I hope you'll stay tuned because its about to get very exciting around here and I could use all the encouragement I can get. Remember "Review's=Love"_

Chapter Twenty-Two: Barbara Ellen

* * *

The forest was so dark at first. Sophia had only a vague recollection of her first journey coming away from the castle and it seemed that the way back was much more foreboding now that she knew of the dangers. She was on edge and frightened of every shadow and every stray noise. Truth be told this was the only forest she had ever been inside and so she had little expectations aside from the sinister warning signs that seemed to be nailed to every tree that grew near a cross-roads.

Her heart beat terribly in her chest and she felt a deep chill enter her body that seemed to go right through her clothes and into her bones. She was long past exhaustion and had entered some realm of wakefulness she had not known existed. It made her feel like every sense of smell, touch, and sound was exaggerated to the maximum of what she was capable of feeling.

Chip walked his horse ahead of hers leading the way. Several times they had to stop as the paths would intercross. She would watch and wait on her horse at the countless times he dismounted his own and would stare at the roads, then the signs on the trees. Their writing was indistinguishable and no matter how long he stared they still looked like gibberish to her.

The hours ticked on as they walked slowly through the forest. The further they went the noisier it seemed to become. Sophia was just starting to feel tired again when there was a horrible crunch of twigs snapping and she jumped several inches above her saddle. Letting out a gasp she pulled in her reins and stopped. Chip turned around to look at her and then turned his horse about so that they were facing each other.

She looked around herself quickly trying to identify the maker of the sound but could only see just beyond the path. The sun was staring to set into the tops of the trees and the shadows had already begun to advance, obscuring their view and their chances of traveling much further.

Sophia looked at Chip and he realized for the first time that she was noticeably frightened.

"What's wrong?" He asked hoping she wasn't losing her nerve now.

She looked at him imploringly and strained her ears to the sounds that would inevitably be some creature coming to end their journey for them.

"I t-thought I heard something." She said quietly.

Chip could tell that Sophia was reaching the end of her rope. Having barely slept in the last four days and with their food storage getting lower and lower every hour he know that he wasn't going to be able to fool her for much longer. The truth was he was fairly certain they were irreversibly lost and it was going to take allot more daylight hours for him to try and find his way back to a trail he recognized.

Having discovered his own sense of panic every time they reached another crossroad he felt a swell of gratitude that he at least had her with him. Guilty, as well, because if he got them killed well…. Christian would probably come up with some way to terrorize his afterlife. But that was neither here nor there.

With more then a little tenderness Chip reached his hand over and took Sophia's in his. This had the desired effect and shook her out of her acute anxiety. He rubbed his fingers over her cold ones and smiled wanly at her.

"Don't worry. I won't let anything hurt you." She looked at him, if maybe a bit questioningly but nodded her head to let him know she acknowledged his efforts. He continued, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

"This forest makes strange noises sometimes. Don't believe anything you hear."

He looked around himself hoping to see some answer written in the treetops, or perhaps the clouds, but only found that the light from the sun had finally snuffed itself out and dusk was beginning to set in. He sighed heavily and slowly dismounted his horse. His stiff joints and sore muscles screamed at him to show them mercy but he only took a few rigid steps towards the edge of the path.

"I was hoping we would have reached the castle by now. I guess I must have taken a wrong turn."

He looked up at her face to see that she had registered a good deal of alarm at his words and he quickly backtracked to keep her from hyperventilating.

"Oh, it's alright!" he said quickly and then smiled as if to be calming. "We'll get back on track….. but I think we need to find a place to sleep tonight. Do you think you're up for helping me find a suitable camping place?"

She took a deep breath and then nodded. It wasn't any kind of success but at least it meant she would be able to get off her horse and do something besides stare at the back of Chips head as they lumbered on through what felt like an endless wood.

They walked deep into the forest off the trail. Chip had his knife out and with every tree they passed he put into it two large slash marks to indicate that that was where they needed to go to get back to the path in the morning. After some time they came to what would have been the perfect little clearing where the trees had separated leaving enough room for an exact circle surrounded by endless trees. Soft grass grew here almost to Sophia's knees and she had a sweet fancy of herself in a long flowing white gown with a unicorn, it's head laying across her lap as she sang soft tunes into it's ear.

Twilight had settled in and they waited for the moon to reach the top of the sky and shed some light on their little opening. When the shadows cleared enough for them to see where they were going Chip became very business-like. If Sophia had not been so exhausted she would have smiled. He started to take turns around the circle examining the trees and what lay beyond them. He led the horses just out of sight and tied them to a sturdy tree. This would eliminate any possibility of putting your hand unknowingly in horse manure in the middle of the night, but kept them close enough that he would be able to hear if they tried to make a break for it. He then turned to Sophia and in a very humorless voice told her to go and find a large enough pile of firewood to last them through the night. She walked away shaking her head but found that she did not feel threatened by his orders. She was discovering that it was actually a bit enjoyable to be allowed to do a man's work. There was something refreshing about Chip's exuberance of setting up camp and she had the idea that he would make a wonderful woodsman.

Twenty minutes later she had managed to stack up a sufficient pile of dry branch's near the edge of the clearing and sat down upon it to watch Chip clear away a circle of grass, pull rocks around it and attempt to start a fire. He wasn't having much success and the minutes seemed to drag on as he continued to strike his flint, swear, and then rearrange his pile of dry wood and kindling to try again. The moon was so bright that night that the clearing seemed to light up as bright as if they had already started a fire. If it weren't for the chill that had set in she would have suggested they just go to sleep without one. As it was she was wondering if Chip was going to do himself a mischief with the way he kept wracking those two stones together in hopes of his sparks catching.

He had bent himself very close to the top of his fire-pit he had made. His head was inclined in Sophia's direction and she found herself watching him methodically. There was something about his hair that was sending chills up her spine. Normally it was a blond color. Much blonder then her fathers hair whose looked closer to the color of gold and wheat. Chips hair was flaxen and it glistened in the sunshine. But tonight…. As the moon reflected off his skin and his hair glowed so bright it almost seemed silver, Sophia felt something. There was something different in the rhythm in her heart as she watched him try and take care of the two of them out here in this haunted forest. Something beautiful in the way he didn't notice how sweet he seemed as he whispered to his horse and hummed little tunes to himself. There was something in his voice that was mesmerizing. Something that made her want to listen to someone else besides herself for the first time in her life. And if she sat there long enough and took herself out of the situation she was in she could almost make herself believe that when Chip was looking at her, he really saw her. And he loved what he saw in her just as much as she loved what she saw in him.

It was a little over an hour after they had reached this clearing and Chip still hadn't managed to get a fire started, that his head came up suddenly with a jerk.

"What was that?" he said quietly, looking at Sophia who seemed to be staring at nothing in particular on the ground. She lifted her head up calmly and looked around the clearing.

"I didn't hear anything." She answered him but he continued to tense his muscles and scan the trees for any indication of something coming to join them.

Sophia smiled a little bit and then yawned loudly. "Wasn't it you that told me not to believe anything you hear in this forest? Remember? It makes funny n--"

But just as she was in mid-stretch from her yawn she realized that there was something to Chip's question. She had heard a noise as well and this time it wasn't some twig snapping or bird taking flight. A voice had reached her ears that belonged to neither Chip, nor herself. Someone else was in the forest and from the sounds of it, they were coming right this way.

Chip stood up with a jerk and tucked his flint into the pocket of his jacket. Scanning the clearing he snatched his saddlebag and Sophia's off the ground wear they had been laid down and taking two huge strides helped her to her feet and whispered. "Follow me".

He tossed the saddlebags in the direction of the horses and they walked several paces out of the clearing. Checking to make sure that they were out of sight of whatever was coming there way he found a small nitch between two trees where he lifted himself up onto a branch of one of the larger ones that would hold his weight. Indicating to Sophia to sit down into the bush that was at the base of the tree he maneuvered his body so that he was in direct line of sight of the clearing below him. He only hoped that they wouldn't look up as far as where he was standing on the branch.

They waited. The noise grew louder until not ten minutes after they had hidden themselves a light came into view. The light was from several torches being carried by what would seem like a group of ten to fifteen large, burly men. The first few to enter the clearing were laden with an assortment of things Sophia recognized instantly. One man was carrying a bundle on his back that consisted of the draperies from the ballroom of Rose Castle. They were a rich fabric with gold thread sown into the fringe at the bottom which made their worth infinitely more then normal. The next man was carrying several old golden trophies as well any number of roped pearls and other jewelry that Sophia recognized as having belonged to her mother. The men wandered into the clearing as if in a daze and having taken a good look around stopped. One man turned himself about to face other torchlight's that were approaching at a much slower pace.

"This way, men. We camp here for the night."

What Sophia saw next would remain in her mind for the rest of her life. The others behind them trudged into the clearing, some holding similar bundles of loot as the first few, but the ones in the back were slugging along with a huge litter baring a hulking mass that didn't take clear form until the men had started a fire. Sophia watched as they took the litter and placed it in the middle of the clearing. One man stretched his arms out as if they were sore from dragging along the weight of the burden on the litter.

"Looks like someone's already been here." He remarked to the others as they began to set up camp.

"Doesn't matter." Another answered throwing Sophia's logs onto the fire so that soon it roared and the heat could be felt even where Chip was in his tree. "If they think about coming back I'll cut their throats. Hopefully they'll have some food on them, I'm starving!"

That man seemed to be the leader and the others had piled their spoils into a spot very near him. He started to riffle through it making note of the fine quality of the items on the top.

One man turned himself into the direction of the horses but didn't seem to suspect that there was anything beyond those trees except more trees.

"You'll be lucky if we don't starve to death out here, Tom. Your excellent skills don't seem to have done us much good so far."

The man named Tom looked up at the one who had spoken and glared at him.

"You implyin' somethin' Dick? You think you could do better?"

Dick took a step to the side into the direct light of the fire. "M'sure I could! We've been wondering 'bout this forest for three damn stinkin' days. And just so you're aware I'm bloody sick of hauling this damn thing around with us!"

He then gave out a kick to the huge mass on the litter. His foot connected with something soft and it made an audible thump. What Sophia had not been able to identify prior to that moment came into clear view as the head of the Beast, which flopped to the other side facing herself and Chip. For just a moment time stood still and Sophia's eyes narrowed down on the massive animal facing them. Something deep down inside of her was making a tangible change. As if she had connected with the face of the Beast though she had never laid eyes on it before. It was familiar to her and so foreign at the same time. Then she heard Chip's deep intake of breath and slow as the centuries he descended down from his branch, slinking down next to her inside her bush. Luckily for both of them the men had not heard any of this due to the roaring sound of the fire. Sophia looked over at Chip to see that his face had gone so pale that she was uncertain if he was going to vomit or not. He slumped against the tree, his limbs loose and unmoving. Sophia noted that he had the most peculiar look on his face. It was as if someone was tearing his innards apart from the inside and all he could do was sit and stare at the image in front of them.

Sophia leaned in towards him, his eyes round and unmoving away from the Beast Tom had kicked.

"Chip…" She whispered so quietly that he would be the only one to hear her. "Chip, is that… is that my father?"

He didn't look at her, only nodded. He was afraid that his voice would betray him if he elected to speak. All he could do was sit and watch as the conversation continued on amongst the men in the clearing. It was another man sitting near the fire that spoke next.

"How is that thing not dead yet?"

"Hell if I know" another answered from amongst the group. "Maybe it can't die."

"Hell is right." Dick spoke again from his position next to the beast. " Damn thing came strait out of Hell. Which goes back to why in the name of Joseph, Mary, and Jesus are we dragging its filthy carcass around with us?"

"We're taking it back to the village, you blinking idiot! How many times do I have to remind you?" That was Tom again, surveying the men as they stalked around the clearing discussing the matter.

Dick looked down at the Beast again and nudged him hard with his foot.

"_I_ say…." He began, looking up at the other men and then back down at the Beast. "That we cut its bloody head off. Think that will kill it?"

Sophia almost screamed out in surprise as she felt Chip's hand grab her arm hard enough to leave bruises and she heard him give a strangled "No!"

Tom continued his morbid proposition. "Think of it. We can skin the monster and bring its head back to the village. We'll hang the ugly thing in the tavern in memory of Gaston."

Several men were making moves towards the Beast lying there near the fire. Many of them were giving a solid _'Here here'_ and one or two had even grabbed for their knives.

At the very same moment that Chip made a movement to hoist himself up and charge into the clearing, Tom had jumped to his feet and came to stand in front of the Beast, blocking the other men from finishing him off.

"Now listen here you filthy buggers!" He shouted to them, his voice echoing all through the clearing and into the forest. "If any a you's thinks about disobeying the Bishop it's going to be you we'll be skinnin'! Do you hears!!?"

He glared at he whole haggard group. Some had taken a step back to indicate their submission.

"We was told to bring this thing back _alive_ and that's what we're gonna do!!! There's strange magic surrounin' this monster. Evil magic. We have a sworn duty to protect our families and our village against such evil. We get it back to the Bishop alive and he can make sure that it never comes back again. You hear!?"

Most, if not all of the men gave a hearty 'Yes, sir'. All, including Dick, who didn't seem to have any desire to challenge Tom further, went back to setting up camp.

Sophia sat perfectly still after the whole encounter. Her mind had sped up to going faster then a racing horse and no matter how she tried; she couldn't seem to catch up. The only reoccurring theme that continued to come to her was the notion that no matter what they do, they had to try and save the Beast. They couldn't leave him with these men.

She leaned over to Chip and grabbed his arm. Her fingers didn't even begin to wrap around his bicep and he barely acknowledged her touch as he continued to stare in the Beast's direction.

"Chip, we have to do something. You have to help me do something."

He nodded and swallowed hard, still not diverting his eyes.

"I know." He responded after a few moment.

After several moments of silence he suddenly seemed to come back to life as he shifted his weight back onto his knees and glanced around him silently. Sophia looked around as well but wasn't able to come up with any idea as how to rescue this Beast that was her father.

"Chip, what are we going to do? We have to get them out of the clearing somehow. We _have_ to do something. You can't let them kill him or take him back to their--"

She barely had time to hold her breath before Chips hand came up and clamped over her mouth with more then a little force.

"Shhh" he whispered through his teeth. "Just give me a second."

They sat there for a moment as the men made noise about going to bed and preparing for tomorrows continued march to get them out of the _"God-Forsaken Forest"._

It wasn't five minutes before Chip quietly snapped his fingers and looked down at Sophia.

"I've got it." He murmered.

"What?" Sophia asked, relief flooding her features.

"Hold on one moment." He said. With that he leaned over almost pressing his face to the ground and then reached out a hand and scooped up a handful of leaves so quickly that Sophia was almost startled at his actions. He then promptly shoved the leaves into the pocket of his jacket and then turned to her once more.

"Alright." He began. "We have to lure them out of the clearing, but we also have to make sure that they don't come back."

Sophia nodded in agreement. "So what do you need me to do?" She asked, a thrill of excitement creeping up inside of her.

He looked around the clearing once more before asking "Sophia… Do you know any arias?"

She blinked slowly at his question, wondering if she had heard him correctly.

"Chip, Of course I know several arias! But I don't think this is the time for that! We need to help my father!"

Chip sighed, if a bit dramatically. "I know, Sophia. I have a plan but I need your help."

She turned her head to the side and closed her mouth to indicate to him that she was listening.

"Alright," He started once again. "Here's what we're going to do. I need you to climb that tree." He pointed upwards to the tree he had been in before the Beast had come into view. "Get as high as you can. Then I need you to cup your hands around your mouth like this." He put his hands to the side of his mouth to indicate a large circle around his lips. "Then I need you to sing something. Project it right into the trees over there." He pointed towards the trees on the opposite side of the clearing. It was the side that was catching the most shadows of the firelight and lit up the men's figures every time they walked nearby.

"When I give you the signal, I'll tap your foot or something, I need you to stop immediately. Be as silent as the grave."

Sophia had never felt more confused in her life. The whole thing sounded like the ravings of a mad man. She wondered if this whole thing was finally getting to Chip's head.

He waited for her to respond. Her expression she was giving him was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. "Does that sound like something you can do?" He finally asked.

"I guess so." She replied skeptically. "What do you want me to sing?"

He glanced around looking for something that would indicate an answer. "Something, haunting. Something that's going to get them on their feet and walking in that direction. Think of…" he paused, screwing up his face in concentration. "Think of… wood nymphs and….. sirens."

Sophia thought for a moment. She wracked her brain as hard as she could for any vocal piece that would fit that description but nothing was coming to her. For years her father had ordered her training in every type of musical ability he could and now when it really seemed to matter she was drawing a complete blank. Finally after several moments of thinking the first song that came into her brain, popped out her mouth.

"I know _'Barbara Ellen'_". She looked down sheepishly wishing she could be more helpful.

Chip blinked slowly and then smiled a bit crookedly. "That's an old English tune. Where did you hear it?"

She shrugged her shoulders and twisted her hands in her lap. " I once heard my father singing to his roses. He didn't know anyone was listening."

There was something in Chip's eyes that was strange to Sophia. A sort of light came on in his expression and he nodded his head slowly. " _'Barbara Ellen'_ will do just fine. Make it sound…. _Legato_. Try to blur all the words together and push your voice as far away from yourself as you can. If we're lucky the echo in the clearing will make it sound like it's coming from over there. Hopefully they'll start walking in that direction."

Sophia nodded her head and started to stand up to begin her climb into the tree but paused and looked back down at his face.

"What's going to happen after I stop singing?" She asked feeling like this was something of a half-baked plan and had serious possibilities of ending badly.

Chip smiled that crooked smile again and put his had into the pocket he had stuffed the leaves. "You'll see. If this works, they'll be gone and they wont come back."

Sophia shook her head, still confused and then started to climb the tree. Chip reached up his hands and she left them on her backside as he pushed her further up onto the branches. The touch was not meant to be intimate in any way but Sophia still felt tingles run up and down her spine and she took a step onto his shoulder before getting her footing to the next branch. After a few more feet had been gained she put one leg over the side of a large branch stretching out far into the clearing. Straddling the wood she laid down on her stomach and scooted herself further out above the heads of the men on the ground below her. She swallowed hard but felt no anxiety about the height she was at. It was a favorite past-time of hers to climb trees. After she had gone as far as she dared, still protected by the cover of the leaves on the branch's she took a moment to catch her breath.

It was the strangest sensation she had ever had and for the first time since this whole journey-nightmare had begun the fear had dissipated and had been replaced by something else. Accomplishment perhaps. She was making a difference. It might not be much but it was something. For the first time in her life she was with someone who treated her like an equal, like a member of his group that was worth something more then a large trophy to put on someone's mantel. It was exhilarating while still being terrifying.

She looked down at the top of Chip's head. He had something in his hands that she couldn't identify and leaned over to try and get a better look. It still wouldn't come into focus and after a few moments he looked up and then nodded his head to indicate that he was ready for her to start singing.

She took a huge breath of air and then cupped her hands around her mouth as he had shown her. Leaning over as far as she could she opened her mouth and let out a clear first line that almost surprised herself. The sound was so different here then it had been in the castle that it gave her confidence and she pushed the air out even harder to give more sound to her voice.

" '_Twas in the merry month of May…………."_ She sang out the second verse and then felt any sense of apprehension disappear. _"The green buds were a swelling…… Sweet William on his deathbed lay……..For the love of Barbara Ellen"_

There was stirring below that she was almost oblivious to. One man had heard it first and he threw his arm out to another laying very close to him.

"Stanley!" He whispered loud enough that Chip could decipher every word. "Do you hear that?"

Several men sat up off their camp-rolls and were still as stone as Sophia sang out from her tree.

"Saying you must come to his deathbed now…….. If your name be Barbara Allen"

"What is it, Dick?" One man shouted from across the clearing. He was clearly spooked from the haunting music.

"Where's it coming from?"

And just as Chip had predicted one man pointed in the direction opposite of Sophia into the shadows of the firelight.

"It's coming from over there! What do you think it is?"

"Could there be a woman out here?"

"No!" Tom answered him. "Wood spirits! Fair-Folk! Deeply magic creatures. If we could catch one, just think!"

Many of the men had stood up out of their camp beds and were looking around themselves. Sophia continued to sing on, though her breath was getting a little short. Still she pushed hard on her diaphragm to make the noise even more surreal.

"Oh mother, mother make my bed…….Make it long and make it narrow…….Sweet William died for me today…….I'll die for him tomorrow"

"It's so beautiful…." One man murmured to another standing next to him. "What would I give if my old bit-wife sounded that beautiful…."

Tom had pulled on his boots and had a wild smile on his face as he stood up.

"Come men! Lets go so if we can get a look!" They all started making small steps towards the opposite side of the clearing. Their shadows grew smaller as they walked closer to the fire. Sophia took a huge breath and then sang her favorite verse of the song.

"_They buried her in the old churchyard………..They buried him in the choir…………And from his grave grew a __**red red rose**__…………….From her grave a green briar………."_

It was at that moment as Sophia made to open her mouth and finish the song that a rock came up out of nowhere and hit her in the side of the face. She looked down to see that Chip had been the one to throw it. He made a movement of covering his lips to indicate that she needed to stop singing. She hummed over the last part of the tune and then closed her mouth.

For just a moment then men kept walking and then they stopped altogether.

"Wait!" One shouted. "Where'd it go?"

"Dunno" Another replied.

A confused pause collected over the group as each man looked around himself. Then just as suddenly there was a huge thump as something was thrown into the direction of the fire. It had come from the opposite side of the clearing that the men had been walking towards. The fire roared into life, threatening to singe the hair of the Beast, still lying next to it's flames.

"What in the name of--"

One man began but he never got the chance finish his oath. There was a terrible growling noise and then a shadow arose up over the heads of the men. It danced in the firelight and its silhouette grew till it was almost the size of the entire tree. Sophia's eyes grew wide with surprise as the shape of an enormous dragon came into light. It was colossal and she felt like a fist had gripped her throat. The dragon was in perfect relief and the shadow suddenly looked as if it was taking a step into the direction of the men.

One man shouted out in terror. "Dragon!!!! Oh God, it's a Dragon!!"

Many of then took stumbling steps backwards, barely avoiding falling into the blazing fire behind them. Then suddenly the dragon opened its mouth and out came a screeching roar that caused every hair on Sophia's body to rise in terror. She opened her mouth to scream but then clamped a palm over her lips to stifle the noise remembering what Chip had said about being silent. Whatever was happening she wanted to stick to his plan.

The men, on and all, let out yells of terror and took leaping steps backwards. All of them started to run at once in complete pandemonium. They scrambled for their camp-rolls and many grabbed handfuls of the pile of loot near Tom's own bed site. One man shouted over the tops of the noise of the roaring dragon. "What about the monster!!??"

Dick heard him and shouted back. "Let the dragon finish it off! I'm not risking my neck for that thing."

All of the other men seemed to agree. Sophia clamped her eyes shut and put her hands over hear ears to stifle out the noise of the indecent howling of the monstrous shadow-dragon.

It seemed like an eternity before Sophia couldn't hear the men running from the clearing anymore. Their shouts slowly died away for a while as they continued to run away from their terror. Then quite abruptly the dragon stopped howling. Sophia still refused to move.

She would have staying like that the whole night through had it not been for another rock that came whipping out of nowhere, hitting her forehead. She opened her eyes and sat up strait on her branch. Chip was standing up inside his bush and was looking up at her with the most elated expression on his face.

"You can come down now. It worked, they're long gone."

Sophia felt her lips trembling as she squinted through the darkness to try and see if he was right. After a few moments she slowly put one foot in front of another and started to descend the trunk of the tree. When she got close enough Chip reaching up his hands and wrapped them around Sophia's waist letting her down slowly. She gripped his arms and refused to let go, clutching at the only safety she could plausibly find.

"But what about the dragon." She whimpered to him feeling the terror come back into her throat. To her surprise Chip let out a small chuckle and then reaching back into his pocket he pulled out something she had not expected.

In his palm lay a small brown lizard. Sophia recognized it as the same kind of lizard that she used to catch inside the orchards back at Rose Castle. The ugly thing had it's arms propped open with small twigs and to each twig was tied several large green leaves. They gave the creature the look that it had very small wings. Feeling threatened it stood up on his hind legs and opened it's mouth to reveal sharp little teeth. It probably assumed it was being menacing but from Sophia's vantage point it just looked pathetic. She gazed up at Chip in confusion.

"Then…. Then… it was just an allusion?"

Chip nodded with satisfaction and smiled at her with a seemingly proud expression. She still felt wonder at the whole idea. It had seemed so real.

"But… But how?" She asked after a moment of contemplation of her own terror at the sight of what the dragon's shadow had looked like from her spot on the tree.

Chip continued to smile down at her and then leaned over looking her square in the eyes.

"Well Sophia, I can do _some_ things."

At first she didn't understand what he was referring to and then in her mind the memory came back in full force. Her words at Fortesque manor in England.

'You can't do anything…'

She remembered his words as well; the ones about magic.

'_I'm not a magician. I'm an illusionist. Master Dominic cannot work magic. He only knows how it could be worked. He taught me, but….'_

At the time she had been referring to magic in general and had not thought that Chip would take her statement to heart. Apparently he had and she felt both impressed at the whole setup he had created to get the villagers out of the clearing and deep shame at her inconsiderate words. She made a strong mental note to learn to hold her tongue. She was growing tired of the trouble it was causing her.

As she stood and contemplated this Chip pulled the leaves off the lizard and set the little creature on the ground. It scurried away, fearing more molestation from the pair of humans towering above it.

Chip then turned slowly around to survey the clearing. Remembering what they were doing, the adrenaline of the whole adventure still pumping through his system, he took several large steps in the direction of the Beast, leaving Sophia standing in the bushes.

Sophia wasn't sure whether to move or stay put, her fear only now just dissipating. She still felt rooted to the spot only able to watch as Chip made his way towards the Beast that both frightened and fascinated her.

Chip dropped to his knees and the exhilaration he had been wearing on his face was completely washed away. He had a strange look about him. As if he was trying to hold himself together after having already fallen apart. He scooted close to the massive hulk of animal that lay unmoving next to the fire. She watched as slowly, hands trembling he leaned over and put his head on the chest of the Beast. He closed his eyes, fearing the men had been wrong, that they really were too late.

Suddenly his eyes popped open and sat up strait as a pin.

"Sophia!!!" He shouted, not even bothering to keep his voice down. "Sophia, he's breathing!! Oh God, Sophia he's alive."

Chip then stood up strait and turned around in a full circle to see what it was in the clearing he could use. Then he stopped and turned to look at her. She was still not moving. Paralyzed with something far beyond fear she wondered now if she could even approach the Beast. Not in this whole journey had she paused to think that perhaps what would scare her more then anything else was this thing lying on the ground. It didn't seem real and she was totally unprepared to think, to move, to feel. She didn't know what to do. She regarded Chip with a look of wide-eyed pleading and continued to remain silent and unmoving.

Chip turned away, his head reeling so quickly that he could only deal with one problem at a time. He bent over to pull the litter parallel to the fire. It wasn't good for Christian's head to be so close and after having touched a part of his body that was away from the fire Chip could tell that his core temperature was dropping fast. He was going to have to do something or the Beast wouldn't be alive for much longer.

But as he tugged and pulled he was completely dismayed to realize that even at the bottom of the litter, Christian was just too heavy. Chip looked around himself and tried to think of what to do when he spotted Sophia still standing in her bushes. It seemed like she hadn't even moved to take a breath since he had walked into the clearing. Her eyes were focused and unblinking as she stared at the Beast. Chip gave the litter another tug, he grunted and pulled but the thing only bunged a few inches.

"Sophia, come and help me. I can't get this thing to move."

She remained still and blinked hard as Chip pulled, took a stumbling step backwards and landed on his backside. He looked up to see her standing there, fear playing across her face. His voice was pleading and it cut her in two, shoving her out of her paralysis.

"Sophia… Please, I can't do this alone."

He slowly got to his feet and held out his hand to her. His face was lit up by the fire and she could see that he had quite a bit of fear playing on his features as well. What he was afraid of, though, Sophia was not sure.

Slow as the centuries she pulled herself out of whatever hell she was laboring under.

"Alright… I'm coming." She said and took a tentative step out of the bushes.

In moments she was over to Chip who had awkwardly gotten back on his feet. He smiled at her and for the briefest moment, took her hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze. Then as business-like as he had been when they had first entered the clearing he walked back over to the side of the litter and squatted down gripping his hands around the base of it.

"Take the other side and help me push this towards the fire"

They heaved and pushed for almost ten minutes and finally the litter was moved into a comfortable enough position next to the flames.

Chip looked around himself and spotted the leftover booty. He pointed in its direction

"Fetch me those drapes. We have to get him warmed up. He's not doing too well."

Sophia rushed over to the pile and drug a long dark red drape across the clearing, brush and leaves coming along with it. Between the two of them they managed to cover the Beast tightly in the drape and Sophia watched as Chip bent over him. He ran his hands along his arms and sides, furiously rubbing him to try and get a better circulation going. Pulling his water pouch off his belt he pulled out its stopper. Then as gently as a he would handle a kitten, he pulled Christian's head towards him. Using his fingers he opened his mouth and poured a small amount of water down his dry throat.

"Come on, Christian." Chip whispered imploringly. "Please drink. Please wake up."

The water seemed to trickle down slowly but no matter how Chip asked Christian still remained unmoving and his chest rose and fell only enough to keep air in his lungs.

Chip sat back on his haunches and pulled his hand away from the matted fur. Sophia looked on in horror as she realized Chip's hands were completely soaked red.

She winced and choked back a sob. "Oh God, Chip…. There's so much blood"

He nodded his head and turned to look up at her and it frightened her to see an element of defeat playing on his face. "I know. His heartbeat is so faint. If he…. If he doesn't wake up soon…. He's not going to."

Sophia nodded her head and tried not to think of that as a possibility.

"What are we going to do?" She finally asked.

Chip got to his feet. His legs were beginning to become stiff and sore from all that had happened within the space of just a few days. Letting out a huge sigh he glared at the dancing flames in front of him.

"We can't pull that thing by ourselves but we still need to get him out of this forest. I think…. I think I need to go back."

Sophia made an indeterminate twitching movement and shook her head quickly. The only thing that was worse then this forest was being alone in it.

His features softened at her immediate panic. "It's going to be alright. I won't be gone long. If I leave now and run hard I can be back before mid-morning tomorrow. That little village wasn't too far from the forest edge. I can get another horse and some food. That way we'll have three strong horses pulling the litter."

Sophia gulped hard and gazed around her trying hard to calm the rising tide of horror at being left in this forest in the middle of the night.

"Where are we going to go from here?" She asked, her voice higher then normal.

"We'll head for the castle. If Christian can survive the night then he'll have a much better chance there. We'll have a lot more supplies at our disposal. But first we just have to get him there."

Sophia nodded, seeing the wisdom in his words. "Alright." She finally whispered.

Chip tipped his head backwards to look at the sky. It was still rather bright outside and as long as the forest didn't shift around too much he would be able to pick his away through it easy enough. He walked a few paces towards the stack of loot in the clearing and pulled out a bow and a quiver of arrows. Handing them to her he pulled his own knife off his belt.

"Do you know how to use these things?" He asked, searching her face for any sense of the calm collected girl he had once known. She looked at the weapons in his hand and suddenly seemed to come back to life. Taking them from him she strung up the bow and released an arrow. It thrust through the clearing and hit a knot in a tree square on.

Turning back to him she gave him half a smile and looked down at her boots. Not matter how she looked at them they still remained as mannish as ever. She hated that.

"I think I can manage." She said to him seeing the surprise on his face. He nodded and went to saddle one of the horses up again. They both looked tired from the journey and were a little less then inclined to cooperate with him as he mounted the animal trying to ignore his protesting thighs.

The horse whinnied when it saw the Beast lying next to the fire and tried to shy away back out of the clearing. Chip held the reins hard and dug his knees into the animals sides ruthlessly. Sophia was still standing a good distance away from the Beast as well, the bow and arrow quiver were slung over her shoulders and across her body. Chip smiled broadly at how attractive she looked to him. Here was a woman who looked like someone capable of making something with her life. And she didn't look half bad in those pants either, he thought to himself. Every curve of her legs were allot easier to admire when they weren't hidden by a dress.

Taking a deep breath he walked his horse through the clearing to the spot where he had made the slash mark in the tree to indicate the right way towards the road. Then turning in his saddle towards Sophia he became very serious.

"Now listen to me." He said, his voice huskier then normal. "If there is any sign of trouble, trouble that you cannot handle with your bow I want you to run. Run as hard as you can and don't look back. Do you understand?"

Sophia opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off.

"Your no good to anyone dead, Sophia; Your father not least. But I also want you to be brave. Can you do that?"

Sophia gave him a quizzical look and he realized he wasn't making any sense.

"Alright, just promise me that you'll follow your gut. You know when it's something you can handle or not. I'll try to be back as soon as I can. Promise me that you'll do your best to keep him safe but do better to keep yourself safe."

She hesitated for a moment and then nodded her head. " I promise."

He looked down at the reins in his hands wishing there was some other option for the solution to their problem. But on the other hand, perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be. Fate had a funny way of twisting things around like that.

"He's your father, Sophia. He needs you to protect him right now."

And then without another word he turned his horse around and urged the poor tired animal into a gallop. Within just a few minutes the sound of the horses pounding hooves faded and Chip was gone.


	23. Papa's Little Girl

_**Authors Note:** I am actually very pleased with the way this chapter turned out. It is a favorite of mine and I feel like there's allot of emotion here that very much needed to be said. I found the story Sophia tells to be very important. There's a real "Phantom of the Opera" feel to it. The idea of masks and being lost behind what you present to everyone else. In the end there really is allot more to Sophia and Christian then I ever actually planned when I originally started writing this story. I love what's happened to their characters and I hope you all will review because you want to find out how it ends. Reviews = Love_

_For inspirations purposes I'm including a piece of lyric from the song " I Want You To Know" By Chantal Kreviazuk. It made me think about why Sophia is saying what she is saying._

**_"I could see you, you were there.  
And I could hear you, but you're not there.  
And I, I'm gonna wait.  
I, I'm gonna wait.  
I'm gonna wait.  
I just want you to know.  
I want you to know.  
All that I have is all that I forgot to say  
I want you to know.  
I didn't go.  
All that I have is all that made you run away."_**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Papa's Little Girl**

Sophia sat… and she sat and sat and sat.

The moon eventually set behind the trees and if there hadn't been a fire in the middle of her little clearing she would have been trapped in total darkness. As it was she made sure the fire remained high enough that she could see the whole clearing without having to move from her spot.

After Chip had left she had curled up on a patch of grass at the furthest point of the clearing she could find. It was just far enough away from the fire that the chill of the evening had crept into her skin and she shivered continuously. For many reasons that were beyond her ability to understand she did not want to get too close to the Beast. He was warm, wrapped in drapes, and lay at a comfortable distance from the fire and so she justified herself by saying that it was unnecessary for her to be anywhere near him. She reasoned that there was nothing she could do while Chip was away and therefore she should just keep to herself. That way she couldn't cause any more damage.

The noises of the forest gradually began to quiet. All the little creatures and snapping twigs had decided to go to sleep, or at least keep to themselves for a few hours. Sophia's body felt like it weighed at least three times what it normally would. She was numb with exhaustion and so deeply sore from travel and she could easily believe that if she were able to fall asleep, she might just stay that way for a very long time. Perhaps even a hundred years before she would ever feel rested again.

The hours ticked on and on and though she would have liked to just drift into some kind of unconsciousness her mind would not allow it. It seemed to flit from one thought to another as a butterfly would to flowers. Never stopping for very long but dragging her mind from thought to thought just enough to keep her fully awake and alert. This was a problem because as the silence deepened and left her brain to it's own devises she found that it made room for allot more troubling emotions and memories to bubble to the surface in a cruel and bitter fashion. One after another all her faults and insecurities flashed across her mind laughing at her; taunting the way Wilhelm had in the magic-shack.

In a dire attempt to focus on anything her eyes landed on the Beast. She stared in amazement as his massive chest rose and fell. He was breathing so lightly that you couldn't hear it from her position but she could see him from her viewpoint and she watched with rapt attention.

Rise, one, two, three. Fall, one, two three.

Over and over she watched and counted the breaths he took as he remained unconscious, but alive.

Rise, one, two, three. Fall, one, two, three. Rise, one, two, three. Fall, one two, three.

Sophia suddenly felt, more then saw, an interruption in her counting strategy. She waited. Nothing happened. It was as if there was no longer air to breath and the rising and falling just stopped.

She sucked in her breath, filling her own lungs. She willed the Beast to start breathing again. Seconds ticked by. Her lungs began to burn as she knew that she couldn't go much longer without air and that didn't bode well for the Beast.

Just as she was about to cry out in panic there was a horrible coughing sound. The Beast moved his head and sucked in air noisily. He coughed again and then began to breath deeply once more.

Rise, one, two, three. Fall, one, two, three.

Sophia jumped to her feet, relief filling every section of her body. She let the air out of her own lungs and quietly walked over to the once again motionless Beast.

She knelt down beside him, her hands fidgeting for something to do. Tingling fear pressed down on her as she realized that for a moment there she almost lost him. It was a terrifying prospect and she knew that the whole thing wasn't a good sign.

Looking around herself she poured a little water down the Beast's throat, imitating Chips movements when he had done it. Then sitting back on her heels she sighed deeply and pressed her hand to her cheek.

"Oh Chip. Where are you?" she whispered to herself.

The Beast had not woken up from his coma-like state and it frightened her. She wasn't sure what they were going to do either way but surely knowing he was conscious would be a better predicament then the one they were in.

Finally, once her legs began to cramp, she sat down on the ground next to the Beast's massive mid-section.

It was so much warmer over here that she instantly felt some of her fears and frustrations melt away with the steady burning fire.

She warmed her hands, holding them over his body and then for the first time, studied his face. It was such an interesting face. So frightening and in many ways terribly ugly. She was strongly reminded of the gargoyles that adorned the chapels of Paris. They were meant to be terrifying but…. Beautiful too, yes beautiful.

And…. Another part of Sophia did not feel like the Beast was really all that ugly. Not like the gargoyles at all. Battered, yes. Beaten to a bloody pulp so that his fur was matted around his head and caked underneath his bearded chin. But as she looked she could see a helplessness that had nothing to do with the fact that he was wounded and unconscious. He was in a way beautifully tragic, perhaps because he was so strange looking. Like the mythical creatures out of legends and stories that could only desire redemption. Without meaning to she reached a hand out and smoothed over several stray hairs around his chin. Almost to herself she found her mouth opening and words tumbling out that she had been thinking, but had not meant to say.

"Is that really you, Father?"

There was no movement or acknowledgement that she was even heard. It seemed like it just couldn't be possible. Her father was such a well put-together man. How was it that the father that she knew could possibly be mixed up in something like this?

"Can you hear me?" She heard herself ask, already knowing the answer but greatly wishing it was something different.

She finally rested her arm against the Beast's side, hoping she wasn't causing him any pain he couldn't mention to her due to his unfortunate circumstances. That was of course if he _could_ in fact hear her and just couldn't respond. She sighed again and looked around herself to check and make sure that she couldn't hear or see anyone else coming to find her. It was unnecessary of course but she also wanted to sort out her feeling before Chip returned and now was as good a time as any.

"I just don't understand…" She murmured to herself. "Why didn't you tell me any of this? Why didn't you want me to know? Why did this happen to _you_? Do you even know why?"

Her questions remained unanswered and she found that now that she had finally spoken out into the clearing that it didn't feel wrong to continue on. She had a strange feeling that the forest around her was listening and it wanted to know what she had to say.

Breathing in the crisp air and taking note that the sky was ever so slightly attempting to lighten itself.

"I remember…." She began and then paused, wondering if she was being foolish. Her most personal and private thoughts had never been spoken aloud. She had kept her treasured memories locked away in the back of her mind, constantly telling herself that they didn't matter to her or anyone else. And it puzzled her that only now were they bubbling back onto the surface. To what purpose was a mystery to her. Still, she reminded herself, no one was actually here in the forest with them and so she continued on.

"I remember what you used to be like, a long time ago at-- at Rose Castle. You….. you were my whole world, I think. I wanted you with me all the time, and every once in a while you would let me tag along with you, even though you were the king and people expected so much of you. I never told you but…. I used to practice sitting very still in my room so that when you let me sit in court with you…. You would be proud of how well I was behaving…"

She paused feeling her voice soften as the memories flooded back into her tired brain.

"I remember one night, when I was six or seven, you threw a marvelous masquerade ball. I didn't know what that was at the time but I desperately wanted to go. Of course, you said no and sent me to bed with my governess. But I knew… I knew that if you could just see my face and if I could just get a chance to smile at you the way you liked, you would let me stay with you."

Sophia grinned to herself surprisingly. She realized now that even as a little girl she had had allot of influence over her father. Or at least _she_ had thought so. That was something to think about.

"I stole away down to the ballroom and snuck in through the kitchen doors. No one knew I was there and I hid behind a potted plant looking for you in the crowd."

She paused trying to remember every detail. "Oh father, I was so frightened. I had thought I would come down to see another party like so many you had thrown before. But this one was different. All the people were gone and in their place there were all these monsters dancing about the ballroom. They bounced around and shook their heads at each other and you were nowhere to be seen. I cried out for you but the music was so loud that no one heard me and so I ran as fast as I could. Out of the castle and into the night. It was cold and I remember that I had not brought my robe so all I wore was my nightdress but I went outside anyways. I ran through the rose garden because I knew…. _I knew" _

Sophia paused again and for the first time her voice cracked just a little bit; she tried to ignore it and continued on through her story.

"…That you would be in the garden because you loved your roses more then anything. I was certain that was where I would find you…. But you weren't there. I searched everywhere and called out for you but I couldn't _find_ you. It was so cold that my feet were hurting from walking on the freezing ground and so I went inside the glass house. The roses were still in full bloom in there and I found a little bench and curled up onto it. I guess I fell asleep because when I woke up some of the outside lanterns had been lit and the light was shining through the glass."

Sophia again smiled to herself, the memory seemed so far away now and still so close to her heart.

"I remember when the door opened. I sat up on my bench and my face was so frozen that I couldn't feel it anymore. I looked up and I realized that one of the monsters had found me! He had a lantern in his hand and he held it up and then looked strait at me. I was so scared that I screamed and held my hands over my face hoping the monster wouldn't be able to see me. Then….. I heard your voice. I did not know that it was only you hiding behind a mask. You had been there the whole time and I couldn't see you behind the monster. You set the lantern down and ran towards me. I remember everything you said. You picked me up and cried out _'Oh my God, Sophia, I've been looking for you everywhere! Why did you leave your room?' _I couldn't talk, my face was so cold and I just let you carry me back into the castle. But I remember…. I remember…"

At this point Sophia's voice broke uncontrollably and she felt a small sob creep up into her throat. Without knowing why or for what purpose a tear escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek landing into the fur of the Beast as he still lay motionless, oblivious to Sophia's story and tears.

"You… looked so scared and you took me into the dining hall and sat me next to the fire and warmed me up. I couldn't figure out _why_ you were so worried and why you kept asking me what I had been doing. All I could tell you was that….."

Sophia choked hard and the tears streamed down her face without giving her any ability to stop them. She sobbed hard and finally whispered.

"Was that I _loved_ you and that I was sorry."

Sophia gripped her hands tightly on the drape that covered the unconscious Beast. She leaned over looking at him through her shower of tears.

"Oh Papa!" She cried out, not bothering to keep her voice down. "_Why!_ Please tell me why!!"

She sucked in air as she tried to control her wracking sobs.

"Why did you have to leave!? Why did you have to go? It was like you woke up one day and you didn't want us anymore. You didn't want _me_ anymore. You have all these secrets and it's like you had a whole different life that I couldn't be a part of and I don't understand _why_! You left us and Mama was always crying and all we wanted was for you to come home!"

Sophia clenched her teeth together and squeezed her eyes shut as she wept bitterly at the emotions she had bottled up for so long. Her ribs hurt from the painful sobs that could be felt with her very soul.

"And I'm sorry Papa!! I'm sorry for everything!! I don't know what I did to make you hate me and all I want is for you to come home!! Please, don't leave us because I'm sorry! The truth is you're not the monster….. I am…. And I'm sorry…"

She gasped for breath, trying to remind herself to say everything she was thinking. Deep down she had a feeling that her life depended on it.

"All this time, Papa… all this time I've wasted and the truth is… I'm still in the Rose Garden. I'm in the glass-house, Papa and it's cold and I'm afraid. Please come and get me. Please don't leave me. I need you….."

She paused knowing that every word she was speaking could collectively be the truest statements she had ever made and if she were to die that very instant she knew that she had to say it all. It was more important then anything else.

"I need you… because I love you, Papa. I love you so much. I love you."

With those words she left a great flood of relief, as if someone had slipped a balm on an open wound that refused to heal and the pain suddenly melted away. The tears poured down her cheeks and she laid her head on her father's chest and wept. She wept because she loved him. She wept because she would always love him.


	24. To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part I

**To Sleep, Perchance To Dream** **Part I**

_(__**Authors Note:**__ Alright, I realize that this has taken me a very long time to write. I have struggled deeply on whether to post this piece of the story or not. I wanted something that could really show who Christian was. Give a personality behind the Beast. Who was he? Where did he come from? What happened to make him who he is today? Well at least for this particular story. _

_So I thought this would be an interesting way to do it. I will try my best to make it understandable for the readers. To best describe this part I suppose you could call it "The Dream Ballet" if this were a Rodgers and Hammerstein show. I even posted songs that helped give me inspiration for each part of the chapter_

_Throughout all five parts there will be encounters with multiple versions of Christian at various parts of his life. I will refer to the main three as "Boy-Christian", "Beast", and "Old-Man Christian". This may end up being very confusing for the reader as there will be many "Christian's" being referred to, sometimes in the same sentence. There will be a few other Christian's as well during specific memories that are being portrayed. I will italicize them to try and make it specific that the words being spoken are in the memory, not to Christian himself. I really do hope you enjoy this. But if you don't I wouldn't worry too much. The story will resume itself as it was before right after this little interlude and will continue to unravel itself. This was more for me then anything else. I drew upon such stories as "A Christmas Carol" and "Hamlet". I would beg you to review, as this was the hardest piece I've written and the jury is still out on how I feel about it. _

_Christian is getting to know someone very special for the first time. Himself. And whether he's dreaming or this is part of the spell is… for you to decide I suppose.)_

Song: "I Dreamed a Dream" From Les Miserables

_I dreamed a dream in time gone by  
When hope was high  
And life worth living  
I dreamed that love would never die  
I dreamed that God would be forgiving  
Then I was young and unafraid  
And dreams were made and used and wasted  
There was no ransom to be paid  
No song unsung, no wine untasted_

But the tigers come at night  
With their voices soft as thunder  
As they tear your hope apart  
And they turn your dream to shame

_I had a dream my life would be  
So different from this hell I'm living  
So different now from what it seemed  
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed._

Christian knew where he was supposed to be. By any stretch of the imagination he knew he should either be dead, or at least halfway toCompiègne at this point. But that was not where Christian was. In fact he was exactly where he shouldn't be.

For what seemed to him like a very long time he tried to reason with his mind to decide what it was he was doing, or perhaps not doing, which seemed to be just as frustrating.

He was conscious, that he could recognize, but it wasn't the same as being conscious when you are physically moving about.

It took several agonizing moments to realize that his eyes were already open, and yet he had no recollection of opening them. He tried to think, tried to picture the last thing he remembered. After several eternity-like moments it came to him. He had been in a battle, one with a mob of angry villagers. He remembered that they had clubs, and other assorted weapons that seemed humorous from his royal standpoint but deadly when he recalled that it had been his unarmed servants up against those not-so-humorous pitchforks. It was starting to flood into his mind. Yes, he had lost the battle and over the last few days he had slipped in and out of consciousness. Little snatches of conversation would float over him, or even just the noises of the forest, the rumble of the odd contraption they had him strapped to. More then once he had been violently awoken by some villager laying into him without any provocation wherewith he would soon lose consciousness again and float back into oblivion.

So it was a surreal sensation to find himself standing inside the castle when he had no memory of ever making his way there. For a moment he stared at what lay in front of him. He recognized the room as being the great hall. It was as it had been before the spell. He could see the intricate designs of the doorframes and a little nook in the corner of the wall in front of him that held a statue of an angel.

For the life of him he tried desperately to understand how he had gotten here and why. What had happened? If the castle was back to normal, then was he back to normal? Trembling Christian squeezed his eyes shut and lifted his arm to allow his fingers to graze his cheek. He exhaled deeply to realize that it was in fact fleshy fingers that touched his skin and not fur and claws. It was a short-lived moment of relief though because then he began to wonder if this wasn't some figment of his imagination. He opened his eyes again and then turned his head. His fingers gripped his chin and he pinched himself. Did he feel it? He couldn't tell. Perhaps he only remembered what it _should_ feel like and was pretending that he had felt it.

He strained his ears. There wasn't a sound to be heard. No rustling of servants, no birds chirping out-side the castle, not even a whisper of anything living. He looked down on himself to realize in dismay that he was once again wearing the green diner costume he had been adorned in the night hell had broken loose and the spell had resumed it's hold on him.

"Where am I?" He finally whispered and was startled by the sound of his own voice breaking the impenetrable silence.

Without knowing what else to do, but not feeling like he could stand in that spot for much longer he took a step forward and then another. He found that once he started walking there was an eerie sensation that he needed to go into the dining room. He hadn't even the vaguest of idea's why, only that that was where he needed to go and so he allowed his feet to travel the familiar route to the dining room.

He was also unnerved by the fact that the doors he approached were opened without any visible hand to open them. This was a characteristic of the spell; which made no sense to him. If there was still an enchantment here, why wasn't he transformed? Why was the castle in some semblance of order, yet held no servants that he could detect?

In a dreamlike state he reached the large double-doors to the dining hall and to his utter astonishment he heard voices on the other side. Stopping abruptly to stare at his side of the wooden entrance he waited for the door to open for him. When it didn't he cautiously pressed his ear to the side of the door and concentrated every effort on listening to the voices. He was sadly disappointed to realize that he could not even decipher one word. Who was in the castle with him? If that was in fact where he really was.

Taking a deep breath and habitually pulling down the hem of his dinner jacket he grasped the handle of the door and gave a good tug. The door swung open effortlessly and he slowly took a step into the room. He had to take another generous step, fully inside because as soon as he was in the door thudded shut behind him and became as solid as the wall.

The massive dinner table lay before him as it always had and always would. A roaring fire burned bright in the fireplace and the room was lavishly illuminated. Christian could not remember a time when this room had not seemed familiar. Of all the rooms in the castle this one was special because this was where people came to eat, to be entertained and to entertain. This was the room that brought out some of his people's best qualities. Well, aside from Sophia that is.

So it was such a bewildering idea that for the first time Christian barely seemed to recognize where he was. Something was so disturbingly off about the room. Something that set him ill at ease.

It came as a heart racing shock when the same voices he had heard in the hallway once again reached his ears. He was not alone in the Dining hall and whoever owned the voices weren't much further then the opposite side of the hall, closest to the fire.

He strained his eyes to see who they were but to his own frustration realized that he could not make out the figures, silhouetted against the blaze of the flame.

Taking a deep breath he strode purposefully down the length of the table. It wasn't until he was almost within touching distance of the table's occupants that he came to an abrupt halt.

Now, Christian Rosienne had seen a great many odd things in his life. He was no stranger to magic and enchantment and it was a rare occasion when he found himself totally dumbfounded. He had trained his brain and his mind to be focused and refined, spending the greater part of the last ten years perfecting his own outward and inward images of himself. He despised being caught off guard and being challenged, along with a few other things that, at this particular moment, don't seem to be all that important anymore.

His mind raced at an alarming rate as he felt his feet plant firmly into the floor of the dining hall. At the moment he had come upon the owners of the voices a light in his brain had burst into being to reveal the most bizarre of scenes on display in front of him.

At the end of the table there were three places set out. One on the end and another on either side of the end settings. All three were different and all were placed with dishware that Christian didn't even begin to recognize. More disturbing still were the inhabitant of each table setting. Christian squinted his eyes in disbelief at the unexpected occupants and barely realized that he was holding his breath.

Before he had a chance to truly register who or what he was actually looking at the figure sitting at the head of the table spoke first. He was an elderly gentleman. His hair was almost entirely the shade of snow that ran along to his shoulders. He sported a perfectly groomed beard and had the most enigmatic expression on his face. He smiled as if he was amused at Christian's sudden appearance at the dinner table, leaned back in his enormous over-stuffed chair he adorned and folded his hands over his chest in a leisurely manner. In the back of Christian's mind a small recognition was made that he couldn't identify. Something about the gesture of the hand-folding mannerism that was familiar. He ignored the thought and became raptly attentive as the older man spoke.

"Ah!" He called out loudly so that his voice echoed all over the cavernous room.

"Christian! So glad you could finally join us. I do apologize that we do not have a place set out for you but as we won't be staying here long I don't think you will mind very much."

Christian gazed at the man in bewilderment. He found that his first inclination was to wonder why this particular man was apologizing for not inviting Christian to his _own_ dinner table. Most peculiar.

He shifted his weight and made every attempt to read this man with his penetrating gaze he reserved only for situations in which Christian could not make sense of his surroundings. His mouth gone dry, he finally felt it necessary to reply.

"I suppose I do not recognize you sir, though you seem to know who I am."

The elderly man did not register any surprise whatsoever and Christian was unnerved at the glint in his eye. He had a sinking suspicion that this old man found him humorous and not in a good way.

He nodded at Christian and smiled, unfolding his hands as he gestured away from himself.

"Oh that must be quite unnerving for you I imagine. Not having the upper hand, I mean. But don't fret, you'll eventually grow out of it."

Christian felt a sense of equal parts bewilderment at the old man's puzzling words and the other downright irritated.

With a little less courtesy he looked at the old man pointedly. "Well then I don't suppose you'll mind me asking where I am and what am I doing here?"

There was a wizened old chuckle and the man smiled patronizingly at Christian. "My dear boy, you know your own castle just as well as anyone else. Don't ask stupid questions you already know the answer to. It only serves to remind me of how ignorant you are."

Christian felt a rise of heat in his face starting all the way down his collarbone. Involuntarily he took a step forward to let the old man know he had crossed several lines with his comments.

"Sir, I am in no mood for games! I demand that you tell me what the bloody hell is going on here or I'll damn well beat it out of you!"

Amidst the chuckle came another rumbling voice that caused Christian to jump in alarm. He tried to shake the feeling that he was losing his mind because he was almost certain he had not fully realized that right to his left, in the largest armchair at the table sat himself. Or it was the Beast to be more accurate. The Beast looked at Christian without blinking and finished the sentence he had started to say when Christian had finally noticed his hulking form barely inches away.

"I tried that already. It won't work. You're stuck with him."

To his mild surprise, Christian felt himself inwardly recoil away. The Beast was talking to him. _The Beast._ How could Christian be standing right there and the Beast be sitting only seconds away from him. He had spoken and his voice had sent a chill down Christian's spine. He felt a deep loathing for this creature sitting leisurely in the armchair. It couldn't be him. That couldn't be the way he looked and sounded and… and—

"Now now, Christian. Don't frighten yourself" That was the old man again who was now chuckling heartily at his own joke. Christian could feel his heart race uncomfortably in his chest. This couldn't possibly be real. He was sure he would wake up any moment now…

"This is so dull! Why are we just sitting here!!"

This was a third voice and it wasn't one Christian could easily identify. As with his previous encounter, he just wasn't totally aware of all the people that were actually in the room. He deeply wanted to know why he was missing people who were sitting right next to him.

He whirled around to look at the chair opposite the Beast to see a vision strait out of a painting in his old study. One he had not looked upon in years.

And yet here the vision sat, a perfect copy of himself as a child. In truth he was the most exquisite of little boys. His young voice not yet broken of the soprano quality and his face was… alarmingly pretty. So much so that had he not been dressed as a boy it would have been a struggle to determine his gender.

In a complete turn Christian found himself totally drawn towards this boy. He took a step in his direction and without even realizing it had reached a hand out to touch the boy in the chair. Those eyes were just too blue, the hair too golden for him to be real. The boy-Christian glared at Christian's outstretched hand and leaned into his chair crossly.

"Maintain your distance, sir!" The little voice rang out musically and Christian immediately retracted his hand.

"Nasty little bastard, isn't he?" The old man smiled sardonically at Christian's alarmed expression of the boy-Christian's command.

"That's funny, coming from you." The Beast replied to him with just a touch of malice.

Christian was absolutely certain he was going to faint. This was some freakish nightmare out of the depths of some inner insanity he had tried to repress his whole life. There was no way this could be any part of any spell. It just couldn't be maintained in reality.

He looked around, if a bit frantically and then spoke to the group and not to any of its occupants directly, fearing he would realize there was some other apparition from his past he hadn't noticed yet.

"Am I in hell?" He asked in a moment of his panicked wonderings. There was silence for a few seconds as the three looked at him with different expressions on all their faces.

"Did I die and now I have to spend eternity with you three?" Christian finished, restraining himself from abstract terror.

To his astonishment the whole table erupted into laughter. The tinkling laugh of the boy, the resounding guffaw of the Beast, and the wizened chuckle of the old man.

When it had died down enough the old man spoke again.

"Oh yes, that would be hell for you wouldn't it. Having to spend forever with only yourself as company."

In an attempt to grasp at anything but his own assumptions of his predicament Christian glowered at the old man.

"And that is precisely what doesn't make sense, sir." Christian took a cautionary step back to allow him some distance from the table of insanity.

"I know who this is." He said gesturing at the boy-Christian. "This is me when I was…" he paused for a moment and then looked at the boy for help. "How old are you?"

"Nine" he replied.

"Right" Christian said nodding. That would make sense. Nine was the youngest he could remember into his childhood without things becoming mixed up with his actual memories and things he had read in the family records.

Continuing he took a breath. "And as much as I try I can't seem to ever forget _him_." He pointed an accusing finger at the Beast who cocked his shaggy head to the side in the most inhuman way, but remained silent.

"But you, sir. You…. Who are you….? And why are you here…?"

The old man smiled broadly at Christian through his beard. There was a moment where no one spoke and for that moment Christian gazed steadily back at the man in front of him. There was a piece of the puzzle he was missing, he was sure of it. He watched as the old man stroked the hair on his face, his eyes glinted mischievously at him. And they were blue eyes, Christian realized. Deeply blue, with very distinct pointed features on his face. And he sat up rather strait in his chair……

"Oh my God you're me!" Christian sucked in air and closed his eyes in disbelief. The ornery old man was without a doubt an older version of himself and he knew it. He wanted to kick the chair in front if him and wake up. He just needed to somehow wake up from wherever he was.

The old man-Christian cackled nastily at Christian "Ah very good my boy. That didn't take you nearly as long as I thought it would. And no, by the way, you are not in hell. Not yet at least."

"Where am I then?" Christian asked, feeling totally vulnerable to the three apparitions of himself, to which he had no idea why he was keeping company. "This can't be the castle. Not the real one, at least."

Again the old man smiled sardonically at him. "You're somewhere in between."

"In between what?"

"Here and there."

"Then and now." Said Boy-Christian

"Forward and backward." Was the Beast's reply.

"And what am I supposed to do?"

Old Man-Christian shifted the weight in his chair and then produced a long, intricately carved cane. "That is a very good question, son." He then took the cane and poked the Boy-Christian in the ribs. The child squawked in protest and Christian had a sinking suspicion that this cane-poking thing was a habit of the old man's. Christian made a note to himself that he would not poke people if he ever had to use a cane.

"You boy! Time to go!"

Christian hadn't the faintest idea what the old man could be talking about but the Boy- Christian gave the old man a withering glare that almost brought a smile to Christian's face. He was sure he knew that glare very well. Boy-Christian slid out of his chair and came to stand next to Christian for a moment before walking past him towards the entry doors to the dining hall, the same ones Christian had come into.

"Come on." The boy said to him without turning around.

"Where are we going?" Christian asked.

Boy-Christian turned about impatiently and walked the few steps back to latch hold of Christian's hand.

"Let's go." He said pulling on Christian's arm to indicate he wanted him to follow.

"I hope I don't really grow up to be as brainless as you." After which Christian obligingly followed.


	25. To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part II

To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part II

_(__**Authors Note:**__ As I hope you have gathered, this is the first part of a little journey Christian is going on; an involuntary quest for rediscovery. His guide is, of course, the little boy version of himself and takes place in that time frame of his childhood. In my opinion the movie left a great deal to the imagination of who the Prince really was. Why did he become a horrible little monster that would warrant being turned into a beast? _

_This sort of takes a little peek into that by reference only. More will be explained in the course of the story (So don't go anywhere if you hate this whole dream sequence) but this part does refer to child abuse and possible child molestation. I tried to be tactful and left allot to the readers imagination. That way I couldn't be blamed for directly putting those things into your head.)_

Song: "Always on your side" By Sheryl Crow

_Well everything was easy then, so sweet and innocent  
My demons and my angels reappear  
Leavin' only traces of the man you thought I'd be  
Too afraid to hear the words I always feared  
Leavin' you with only questions all these years_

But is there someplace far away, someplace where all is clear  
Easy to start over with the ones you hold so dear  
Or are you left to wonder, all alone, eternally  
This isn't how it's really meant to be  
No it isn't how it's really meant to be

_Butterflies are free to fly, why do they fly away  
Leavin' me to carry on and wonder why  
Was it you that kept me wondering through this life  
When you know that I was always on your side_

Going through the doors Christian expected that perhaps they were heading outside. It was a kick-in-the-gut shock to open the Dining Hall doors only to step into a room that was definitely not the Dining Hall corridor.

He stopped and the boy paused with him but continued to hold his hand, which was surprising given the child's aversion to anyone touching him. The room they had entered was something of a nursery. Neither the twin's nursery nor Sophia's. It took Christian a full minute to realize that it could possibly be an exact image of his own nursery when he had come to Rose Castle as a young boy. Not a very playful nursery, Christian noted with a sense of bitterness. This was not a happy place for him to be recalled to.

"What are we doing here?"

"_We_ are watching." The boy replied sarcastically.

"Watching what?"

Boy-Christian sighed heavily, as if Christian were being an ignorant child. This was fazing him less and less as he was coming to remember that this had actually been his nature more or less as a young boy and would have to be excused.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to ask another question, there were sounds outside the door of the nursery. Two voices were approaching and Christian leaned over till he was almost touching the doorframe. Surely he recognized those voices. He wondered if they were more apparitions from his past. Perhaps he had stepped back into time with himself as his guide.

The voices grew much clearer on the other side of the door and Christian strained his weak human ears to try and hear what was being said. Out of the corner of his eyes he suddenly caught a movement inside the room and he turned his head to see while still keeping his ear pressed against the door. He realized that he had missed a small mound curled up inside the large bed. It was apparent that Christian had entered the scene right around naptime as the sunshine on the floor suggested a little past noon. There in the large bed was a replica of the boy whose hand Christian was holding. He was shirtless and his hair was scattered about his shoulders, long and the color of pure spun gold it gave the child an even more girlish look then he already bore normally. Christian was momentarily taken with the boy's appearance. This wasn't some apparition sitting in a dream-like version of the dining hall. This was a legitimate copy of himself and he felt a longing to go to this boy and warn him to change his attitude. To plead with him to become a different person so that he could be spared so much sorrow and anguish.

"Christian" he whispered to the boy in the bed.

The Boy-Christian who still held his hand sighed again impatiently and looked up at Christian.

"He can't hear you."

"Why not?" Christian replied.

"Because…to us… they are a memory. He is what you remember."

Christian thought about this for a moment. And then looked down at Boy-Christian.

"Why are we watching my memories?"

The boy looked stoically back at the nursery in front of him. "You'll see." Was his answer.

As if on cue the scene began to play itself out. In the back of Christian's mind he vaguely remembered these events. It was possible that to him these were insignificant details from his past. He didn't have many that seemed very happy and most left a bitter taste in his mouth. He again wondered if this was some strange warped part of his spell that could show him scenes from his past. He also wondered if these scenes were useful in only reminding him of what a fool he was.

His thoughts swirled around and he began to lose focus on what was happening right in front of him when he felt something. Something that started deep in his heart. It was an emotion he knew well and therefore had no trouble identifying it. It was loneliness. A feeling of intense abandonment that was somehow simple. As if the feeling was not entirely coming from Christian alone but was an echo of a feeling from a much younger person. It was a feeling that could only be coming from the boy to whose hand Christian held. He was not only watching this strange memory. He was going to experience it as well. Allowing himself to let go of his constant wonderings, Christian felt whatever it was wash over him and he centered his mind back onto what was happening. Perhaps he would find answers to his questions much better that way.

The boy in the bed stirred and then sat up strait upon hearing the noises outside his room. At first glance he had a definite panicked expression on his face. As if he had just woken up from a nightmare that was suddenly coming true. Then his features relaxed as he realized that it wasn't whom he had thought it was at the door. The child leaned over onto his pillows and then almost immediately sat up strait again and let out a little whimper of pain that Christian himself felt shoot up and down his spine. He then leaned forward onto his bent knees and listened as the voices finally stopped outside his door. His expression furrowed in concentration. The first recognizable voice Christian knew instantly as his former nanny. She was always lurking about these rooms, keeping tabs on Christian like a little dog that was ill-behaved. But beneath those annoyances Christian felt a sense of relief. Even though it would take the boy all the way to his adult-hood to recognize it, deep down he knew that when Mrs. Potts was around it always meant that things would be all right. Always.

"_Did you bring the bandages?"_ Mrs. Potts muffled voice came through the closed door.

"_Yes, Madam."_ Replied the voice of a much younger sounding Cornelius Cogsworth.

"_How badly is he off?"_ She asked him as they made sounds of movement about in the corridors.

"He was in there all night. I don't think the King showed him much mercy. He was given twenty stripes this morning and then screamed his little head off when the maid tried to stop the bleeding. His backsides torn to shreds, Cordelia. I don't know if he'll let you touch him."

"_He'll let me touch him."_ Came the firm reply.

"I'll see you at dinner then."

There was no answer but the sound of retreating footsteps as the door swung open. Mrs. Potts, as Boy-Christian had said, did not register that there was anyone else in the room but her and the child in the bed. Christian watched with rapt attention as the little boy took one look at her, hopped out of the covers onto the opposite side of the room, and scuttled away to the window.

"_I did not call for you."_ The little voice spoke with his back to her.

"Oh, I just thought you would like a spot of tea. I brought crumpets, just as you like them, you see."

The boy-Christian would not be tempted and as he stepped into the sunlight Christian finally got a good look at the flesh on his bare back. It was covered in crusted blood and a mass of bloody whip marks that covered every inch of his pink skin. Christian felt something close to tears spring to his eyes as he could visibly see several of the cuts reopening due to the boy's quick movements. They started to ooze blood down to the top of his trousers and were horrible enough to look at, were it not for the fact that Christian could almost groan out in pain from just remembering what they felt like.

The boy glanced behind him when the silence stretched on to see that Mrs. Potts was still standing by the tray she had brought into the room. Her apron was also lumpy and crammed to give reason to believe that the aforementioned bandages were hidden until the child could be persuaded into a better mood.

He glared at his nanny's inability to take a hint.

"_I don't want your stupid crumpets, Mrs. Potts!"_ he said childishly and folded his arms over his bare chest.

His skin was becoming mottled from the lack of a shirt but it was obvious why he wouldn't put one on. Mrs. Potts then put an air on of nonchalance as she bustled about picking up the tray.

"_Well that's a shame. I was hoping we could sit down and I would tell you your favorite story, you see."_

Her eyes twinkled as she made her way towards the door and Christian could only smile broadly at the sly look on her face. Walking away, clearly pretending that she didn't care a bit that her charge had suddenly shown a distinct interest in the fact that she was not even trying to persuade him otherwise.

"I bet the dogs would love these crumpets though! And the tea will keep em' nice and warm, now that it's getting chilly outside."

She paused at the door and gave him a brief smile.

"Well, have a good day."

Then reaching her hand to open the door he made a noise. Almost like a mouse squeaking and she paused, only turning half her body in his direction.

He looked down, and then back up at her again. _"The story about the Golden King?"_

He asked, his voice also feigning nonchalance, though he was not able to do it so well with his impeccably high vocal cords.

She shrugged, not letting him off the hook just yet_. "Oh, I'm sure that's the one, but you don't want any of these 'Stupid crumpets' and I'm sure you're getting too old for my silly stories, right?"_

He looked at her sullenly, realizing she had used his own words against him. He pulled on a few strands of his own hair and stuck out his lower lip before finally relenting and taking a step in her direction.

"_I guess…. I guess I would like a crumpet… If you'll tell me the story again."_

She smiled warmly at him and somehow that warmth reached across the decades to Christian standing at the door. Not once had he taken the time to remember this encounter, nor allow it's effects to come near. He was starting to realize that he had spent allot of time believing that his childhood had only been one big tragedy. He had not thought to remember any of the good things that came from it. Even under such circumstances, it just made sense that it couldn't have been all bad.

He continued to watch as the boy submitted himself to be bandaged up, was poured a large mug of tea, and ate three crumpets while Mrs. Potts stoked his fire and then sat down next to him on the bed to tell a story Christian only remembered after she started to tell it.

"Once upon a time there was a princess. And this princess was so beautiful that a jealous

wicked witch cursed her with a horrible curse….."

They stood and listened to the tale. It was actually an old legend that surfaced when the castle was built several hundred years before Christian was born. A cursed princess would sleep in living death until the truest love would come to save her. A brave prince comes and they spend a wonderful year together until something or another happens that makes it so they cannot be together. In the end the prince gives his life for hers and is buried in the woods where he had found the princess sleeping. From his heart grew a blood red rose and so over his grave was built a castle and of course that was the myth of why Rose Castle came to being. The idea of the "Golden King" stemmed from this legend that out of the union between the two lovers a Prince would be born as a Golden King; Some sort of extraordinary person who would change the world and so on and so forth. In retrospect Christian found the story rather childish and a bit morbid. He had an idea that it was probably made up by one of his ancestors advisors to build up the population's view of the royal family and their claim to the throne. Mysticism always made those in power look good.

Still he found himself being enveloped in Mrs. Potts' voice. The Boy-Christian had allowed his head to drop onto her lap and she was stroking his golden hair lovingly. If Christian were being honest he would admit that this was a beautiful moment. It warmed him in a way that he had not felt in years and years. And just as he was finding himself slipping into some kind of dreamlike comfort there was a violent tug at his hand. Startled he looked down to see that it was Boy-Christian pulling him in the direction of the door. He wanted to resist leaving this place. It had suddenly become a place of refuge from whatever could be outside that door. But the boy attached to his hand would have none of this. He tugged harder and so Christian obeyed because the rational part of him knew that he could not stay here tucked inside a forgotten memory that had, in retrospect, done him very little good throughout his lifetime anyways.


	26. To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part III

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream Part III

_(__**Authors Note:**__ Alright, so this is the third leg of my monstrous creation. Again I would beg you to forgive and disregard all typos and spelling mistakes. They are unintentional and are the product of a flawed author. I actually loved this part of the piece. I love the Beast so much it hurts and I want him to be better represented. I also felt it was necessary for Christian to be faced with himself as the Beast. He hates that form and part of his life but never remembers that without having been the Beast, he never would have had the opportunity to meet Belle. Oh, and in case you are confused, which I hope you aren't, sometimes I refer to the three versions of Christian as "His three apparitions"._

_I also want to point out that I am following the movies poor math and keeping Christian twelve when the original spell was cast. I always found that interesting and get sort of annoyed when people change it around because it doesn't make sense to them. I have worked it into this particular story so that it makes some sense and I have liked the way it has turned out so far. I have also kept the Beast's stutter despite Disney's insistence that it was a recording error. When I was growing up watching this movie I always found it one of the most enduring traits of the Beast. )_

Song: "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls

_And I'd give up forever to touch you  
Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now_

And all I can taste is this moment  
And all I can breathe is your life  
Cause sooner or later it's over  
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me  
Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

PART III

They exited through the nursery door only for Christian to find himself back at the dining room table with his three apparitions. Boy-Christian slid back into his place at the table, nodded at his two counter-parts who, in turn, amiably nodded back. Christian wondered if there was some silent communication going on between the three of them he didn't understand.

Old-Man Christian leaned back into his chair and breathed heavily through his nose. He still had his cane in hand and was fingering the intricate work on the handle.

"Well my boy, how did it go?" He asked in his old voice.

Christian cocked his head to the side wondering if this was a trick question.

"I'm not sure." He turned to the boy who was sipping out of a wine goblet in a very pretty manor that Christian was glad he would grow out of soon. It didn't suit him.

"Why did you show me _that _memory?" He asked the child carefully.

The boy didn't even bother to look in Christian's direction but continued to sip his wine and say. "Because it is my favorite one."

Of course that answer only served to raise more curiosity. How could that be his favorite? The bloody beatings were his favorite? The horrible nights spent in his fathers living quarters? Those were memories he'd spent his life trying to suppress….

"Why?"

The boy didn't answer and finally Old-Man Christian smiled at him and said "Because Christian, it will serve well to remind you that you did not always have a heart of stone. Not everything is as bad as you remember it."

It was an odd moment and Christian tried to make sense of. What were the rules to this place? And for that matter what kind of game was he playing?

"That's not how it feels though." He answered quietly, not looking at the man in front of him.

"No, it never does while you are living it."

There was nothing spoken for a moment. Then Christian heard the scraping noise of a chair being pushed heavily across the floor. When he looked up he saw that the Beast had risen from his seat and was looking at Christian in the most peculiar manner. The silence continued to stretch on until finally the Beast raised his paw out ever so slightly towards Christian.

"I suppose you want me to go with you?" He asked him.

The Beast nodded without blinking.

"I don't know if I want to see what you have to show me."

"Why?" The Beast finally asked.

Christian found that the answer wasn't plainly in front of him. There were several reasons why but which one was the right one? And for reasons he could not understand and probably wouldn't until he was a very old man he was answered for by his elderly counterpart.

"Because he frightens you. Am I right?"

It was a solemn nod that Christian finally gave when he knew there was nothing else to be said. Yes, the Beast frightened him. The fear of what it meant to _be_ the Beast frightened him and always would. His own personal Hell was standing right in front of him offering him his paw. He was afraid that if he touched the Beast… that that would make him real and Christian didn't want him to be real.

Young-Christian spoke over another gulp of wine.

"I don't blame you. He frightens me too."

Christian glanced at the boy and had a fatherly instinct to take the wine away from him, knowing that it would become a nasty habit later. But he held still wishing that he did not feel so vulnerable. Like having your belly sliced open for everyone to see what you were made up of. It was harrowing and Christian hated it.

The Beast studied him in a way that caused him to squirm like a little child. It occurred to Christian that if it was the boy version of himself who seemed to be giving him some comfort in his fears then perhaps he should approach this with a different attitude then a nine-year-old.

So for the first time in his life, Christian made the decision to face his own personal demons. He lifted his chin and met the Beast's gaze with certainty. What he saw there was heartbreaking. The look on his face was clear; he was miserable. His eyes were a piercing pool of sadness that were surrounded by dark fur to give shadows across his face that would never be cast away with sunlight.

"I do not mean to frighten you." The Beast's gruff voice spoke to Christian imploringly.

He nodded to him understandingly. "I know you don't."

" Can't you see that I am in agony? _Everyone_ is frightened of me."

Again Christian nodded but with a sense of longing. He was not the young man he used to be. He'd become a father figure for the last sixteen years and in those years he had a stirring of compassion for those that suffered. Even if his mind was resisting, something on a baser level longed to hold this Beast and bring him comfort the way he would his own children. A Beast, who underneath the fur and fangs really was just that, a child. Lost and abandoned by everyone he cared for and living in a permanent Hell that far exceeded Christian's current one. He wondered for a moment why he had not thought about any of these things years and years before this moment. He wondered if that was why he was here.

"I have something to show you, will you come with me?" The Beast asked, once again extending his paw.

Without hesitating Christian gripped it and almost laughed at how much smaller his hands were in comparison. They began to walk towards the doors to the balcony and Christian had to take two steps to every one the Beast took. He wondered if this had made Belle as breathless as it was making him.

He glanced up to the Beast's head and considered him for a moment.

"You are young" He commented with just a touch of humor to his voice.

"Sometimes, I still think I am twelve." The Beast answered with just a touch of a smile. Christian returned the smile and remembered feeling that way. In fact it must have been a natural occurrence for him to always think he was still ten years younger then was reality. After all, he did not feel thirty-eight in the slightest.

Before he realized it they had exited the dining room through the balcony doors and once again Christian was in a place that could not be found by going that route. Only this time he did not stop to wonder how that was possible. He continued to grip the paw of the Beast and noted that his fur really was quite soft, almost like a rabbit's.

As soon as the Beast stopped walking, Christian was able to identify the room they had entered purely by its smell. They were in the library.

The odor of thousands of musty old books was like a beloved perfume to him and he closed his eyes, feeling as if he had come home. He realized that part of these feelings must come from the Beast, as had the childlike emotions emitted from Boy-Christian.

They stood for a moment in the main entry to the library and Christian scanned his surroundings to see that they had walked right in on a familiar memory that immediately began to play out in front of his eyes.

To Christian's right he could see the Beast of the memory lurking behind a set of bookshelves. In the middle of the library was Belle. She had a book pressed up to her chest and was twirling around the space girlishly and humming a tune that she had once taught him when they were first married. She called it 'Barbara Ellen' or something like that.

Dressed in a day-gown of the richest blue and laced with little white flowers, it brought her skin to look porcelain. And oh, she was beautiful. In the days when she was young and had so many less worries then she did now. Her hair was, as always, escaping it's styling and Christian felt deeply in awe of how she made even the sun to hide in shame of her beauty.

It was such a strange sensation to step back into this place. To feel the way the Beast was feeling. Christian actually felt insecure and unprepared for the emotions that swirled around him the way she twirled around the room. He felt totally tongue tied and hopelessly ugly and yet unable to not approach her, always afraid she was really some twinkling spirit that would disappear at any moment.

The Beast behind the bookshelves was smiling in his hiding place and Christian realized that he could see through the books to her private moment in the library. He seemed to be screwing up his courage to interrupt her, not wanting to do so, but also not wanting to lose any time he could spend with her. As always his clumsiness prevailed and he brushed against the shelf only to have several books topple over to the other side, skimming across the floor to land near Belle's feet. She cried out in alarm and immediately stopped her little dance. The Beast stepped out from behind the bookshelf and made to pick up the books. The magical ladder of the library beat him to it and had all the wayward books scooped up and whisked away before the Beast even had time to compose himself.

"_I-I-I-I'm so sorry, Belle. I didn't mean to intrude…"_ The Beast stammered.

Belle had placed a hand on her breast at the moment she had been startled but now a smile broke out across her face and she did not emote a touch of alarm at seeing him.

"_Beast!"_ She called out to him gaily. _"I was so afraid you weren't going to come today."_

The Beast took a tentative step in her direction and nodded his head apologetically. 

" _I'm sorry. I lost track of time out in the woods."_

Belle cocked her head to the side in amusement. _"The woods? What were you doing out there?"_

He considered her for a moment and then answered _"Running."_ Paused for a moment and then finished with. _"I like to run."_

She smiled her beautiful, radiant smile and thought about that. _"Do you run often?"_

The Beast nodded his shaggy head _"Every day. I don't like being in this castle all the time…."_

Belle nodded knowingly but with amazing tact, did not comment on the fact that she was never allowed to leave. It was possible it didn't occur to her, but more likely then that was that she had lost her need to defend herself against him.

"_It's so beautiful outside, the way the sun glitters off the snow. Perhaps you and I can go out today… If you are not tired of being outside."_

The Beast shook his head without hesitation and smiled at her. _"No, I would love to go out-outside with you."_ He then paused and pulled his cloak close to himself nervously. _"I get so restless… Being outside… it let's me forget about…about…."  
_

"_About how lonely this place can be."_ Belle finished for him, her voice soft and caring.

The Beast nodded and ducked his head slightly, trying so hard to decide if he should tell her more. This communication thing was a hard lesson to learn.

"_I don't think animals were meant to be cooped up inside castles."_ He finally remarked, trying to make his voice sound light and unaffected.

Some of Belle's smile slipped from her face and she took a generous step towards the Beast.

"_You are not an animal."_

He looked up at her, if a bit surprised at her words. It must have shown because she placed a careful hand on his velvet-covered arm.

"_Then what am I?"_ he asked, fearing that her answer could never be what he needed it to be.

"_You are my friend."_ She answered without even stopping to think about it. _"My very dearest friend."_

The silence was impenetrable. As if every book in the library, every fiber in the carpet and curtains were holding their breath in surprise at her words. She had never said anything like it before. The Beast, caught off guard, was unable to respond. He could only stand and consider her without blinking, stretching the moment on as long as it would go.

For what could have been eternity they stood and considered each other, this Beauty and her Beast, her friend. Then with a tinkling laughter, like the sound of bells, surrounded him and broke the spell of the moment.

"_Come, I found the most wonderful book in your library! Faerie Queen, I was so happy to find it I just had to start dancing!" _she said taking a few steps towards the fireplace that had several couches pulled up, just for this daily occurrence of reading in the library.

The Beast, unable to think of anything else said. _"__**Your**__ library."_ Then followed her over to their usual spots on the couches.

She turned herself about and said with a cute smile. _"__**Our**__ library."_

The Beast nodded and they both settled down for a long morning of reading. Usually it was just her reading aloud, but more frequently they would find themselves sitting close together so that he could read a few passages out of every chapter. He was getting so much better at it too. Over time it was becoming the most beloved time of the day for both of them.

Christian stood stock-still and watched the whole scene play out. He found himself being filled to the brim with the most powerful emotions of warmth, happiness, and contentment. He basked in the memory of those days. Oh how beautiful they were.

"I know why you chose this." He said to the Beast whose paw he still held.

The Beast nodded, knowingly, never taking his eyes off Belle. "This was the exact moment." He answered.

"You didn't know it at the time, though." Christian said, raising an eyebrow.

"No." The Beast responded. "But that didn't matter. All that mattered was her."

Christian nodded. "Why this moment, do you think?"

The Beast considered that for a moment. "Because… For the first time in my life, I didn't care what happened to me. When I looked at her, I saw my friend. For the first time I realized that _she_, that someone in the whole world wanted me, and I realized that that meant more to me then my own life. It didn't matter anymore about the spell as long as she stayed with me. Deep down, I knew. Whatever happened to me, I _knew_ that she was more important. This was the moment…."

"This was the moment, I fell in love with her…." Christian said in hushed tones. He felt it deep in his heart. He loved her. He loved her more then he could ever express and what a feeling it was to come back here. He remembered now what it felt like to fall in love with her and why he did so in the first place. And to Christian, that was worth more then could be said.

But long before he would have chosen to leave he felt a tug at his hand and the Beast was taking steps towards the door they had entered in. Christian wanted to beg him not to make them go but had a feeling it wouldn't make much of a difference. They had to go because he couldn't stay here in his memories forever. They were long since past and were not places to call home.


	27. To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part IV

To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part IV

_(Authors Note: Alright, I am NOT a romance writer. That being said I felt strongly about this section. I tried really hard to be tasteful except with anything that comes out of Old-Man Christian's mouth. Aside from that I tried more for romantic rather then raunchy. If I didn't manage that in your book….sorry…I guess…._

_I think the reason I felt it was important was to just really give Christian layers and we're sort of pulling away those layers to get to his core. Plus… He's sexy in his own way and it worked out.)_

**Song: Better then Me by Hinder (The song, not the video so much. It's creepy)**

I think you can do much better than me  
After all the lies that I made you believe  
Guilt kicks in and I start to see  
The edge of the bed  
Where your nightgown used to be  
I told myself I won't miss you  
But I remember  
What it feels like beside you

_  
I really miss your hair in my face  
And the way your innocence tastes  
And I think you should know this  
You deserve much better than me_

The bed I'm lying in is getting colder  
Wish I never would've said it's over  
And I can't pretend... I won't think about you when I'm older  
Cause we never really had our closure  
This can't be the end

So Christian followed and just as before he found himself standing at the end of the table while the Beast resumed his seat. Again there was silence. They all looked at him standing there waiting for something to be said. He could feel the eyes of the old man staring at him and wondered what was supposed to come next.

"I suppose…. It's your turn?" He finally asked Old-Man Christian.

"I suppose so." He replied with a wicked grin on his face.

Just as old men do he took his time getting out of his chair leaned heavily on his cane. Christian watched in bewilderment as the older version of himself limped quite obviously the several steps it took to get close enough to Christian. He wheezed a little, as if he had been sick recently and didn't bother to stop when he got to Christian, but kept walking past him talking over his shoulder, which was rigidly strait, interestingly enough.

"Grab hold of 'me cane, I need the other hand to keep balance with."

Christian did so obediently and walked slowly beside the old man, his hand over the top of the elder's.

"Why do you limp so?" He asked as they neared the doors to the entrance of the kitchen on the other side from the entering doorways of the dining hall.

"You'll find out soon enough." The old man replied cryptically.

They walked through and for the third time Christian found himself somewhere else inside Rose Castle. This time though, it took him a few moments to figure out where he could be. He wondered if this was the version of the castle that would happen some time in the future. The smell indicated that he was in some dusty tower room, perhaps even the one on the east side. It was rarely ever used except for storage of the mountains of stuff that Christian's family had saved for several centuries. From the temperature in the space he would guess it was somewhere in beginning parts of summer. Warm, but an open window let in a pleasant breeze.

He looked about himself and could see that the room had not been tended to for some time. Things were strewn all over the place and an old carpet lay on the floor covered in dust. There was an ancient looking sofa in the corner, under the window, that had been bleached into strange pink color from the sunlight and Christian wondered why he had never taken the time to have these things cleared out. Of course, this couldn't be the reason why the old man had chosen whatever memory this was.

"Why are we here?" He asked turning to Old-Man Christian.

The gentleman didn't respond, just held up his other hand to indicate that he wanted Christian to wait for something. So they waited.

Christian kept himself preoccupied by wracking, his brain trying to remember the last time he had been in this tower room. Surely it had been years and years. In fact, in the years since the spell was broken, Christian could only remember one time…..when…….

In the exact same moment that it dawned on him the real reason he was up in this filthy old tower room, thundering feet where heard on the stairwell just bellow him. Two sets of shoes were running up the stairs at top speed, one in front of the other. The first was louder and male. The second female, and doing her best to keep up with the first.

Christian knew immediately that this wasn't a memory from his future, this was another from his past and not one that he wanted to watch if he remembered it correctly.

Just as he was about to turn to the old man and demand they leave, the door to the tower room burst open. In the doorway stood another young version of himself. This one happened to be barely twenty-one. Still a bit lithe and preparing to grow a few more inches he had hair down past his shoulders that was coming out of it's carefully knotted ribbon.

Bursting in right behind this young Christian was Belle, who was also in the form of her prime years. By her dress it was easy to indicate that she was now royal right down to the little tiara on her head.

They were breathless from their ascent up into the tower room, which would have consisted of several flights of stairs. This didn't seem to faze the young couple in the slightest though. Young Christian looked about himself wildly like a tiger amidst the fray of an oncoming fight. Young Belle, clung to his arm in an unseemly manner, the look on her face was hungry and impatient. Christian could not remember her ever being like that and was surprised at how little composure she had. He swallowed hard and felt his legs turn to jelly as the full force of the memory hit him. His stomach lurched in… possibly from involuntary excitement, possibly revulsion, possibly both. To his horror the couple in front of him, totally unaware of the spectators that stood in the room with them, _barely _made a move to shut the door behind them. Indeed, as Christian could recall, that was why they had come up here. It was private; it was musty and dirty and gave them a sense of suspense in the game they were playing. Like hide and seek from everyone else in the castle. Except that the game ended with the following events.

For several moments he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move or divert his eyes. Their lips were sealed together permanently; breathing becoming erratic and wild as hands were roaming in places that would not generally be considered appropriate in public settings.

Christian willed himself with all his strength to tear his eyes away. He had no desire to watch this whatsoever, or at least that's what he would convince himself if it killed him.

He turned his head to the old man at his side with a mixture of exasperation and disgust.

"This?" He nearly shouted into the wrinkled face.

Old-Man Christian grinned that sardonic grin again and didn't bother to look Christian in the eye. He was certainly enjoying the scene in front of them and would not divert his eyes if he could help it.

"_This_ is your favorite memory?!" Christian asked again, this time getting angry at the lack of response.

"And why not?" The old man replied. "It sure makes _me_ happy to remember and it would you as well if you had half a brain."

Christian chose to ignore the insult on principle. Still he needed to show his exasperation, more so to drown out the moans of pleasure that were filling the room from the young couple. They had now traveled from the door towards the open window, that being part of the excitement, even if no one could hear them from up that high.

"Of all the things that I would have expected to treasure in my old age… This cannot be the best one!" 

Again the old man didn't take the bait, just stared contentedly at his view of the lovers who had finally come to the edge of the couch.

"And why is that?" He replied.

"There are more important things in life!" Christian shouted in frustration. "I would have expected to see my wedding day or the days my children were born! Not some random irresponsible moment of passion!"

To Christian's surprise the old man chuckled. "Don't be an idiot! You know just as well as I do that all of those days were hell! My God, you nearly pissed yourself on your wedding day, you were so scared! And on your wedding night as well, I might add."

Christian felt his words catch in his throat with philosophical answers to emotional problems choking his retorts. Several agonizing moments went by as Christian heard the shrieking sound of Belle's gown being torn right off her body by a young man too impatient to simply unbutton it. Oh, the seamstress would be giving this young pup a tongue lashing when she was informed; Christian remembered it to the letter. Of, course that was what made this whole affair exhilarating. The both of them prancing around the castle, half-naked, to go find another room to enjoy their erotic games.

"And when was it exactly," he began evenly to the old man. "That I became a wizened old pervert?"

This finally had something of the desired effect that Christian had been looking for. Old-Man Christian tore his eyes away from the pair in the corner to gaze upward, a few inches into Christian's face. But instead of anger or fury Christian only got that sly look he was coming to despise from this man in front of him. It didn't bode well for a future if he even had one anymore.

"Only you would think that this," He pointed an old spotted finger in the direction of the couple "Was perverted."

Christian threw up his chin indignantly. "I highly doubt that this incident would have occurred at all if I had known I was being watched."

"I highly doubt it would have mattered to you either way." Came the retort. "If you'd care to notice his mind is otherwise preoccupied with more important matters."

Christian shook his head in disbelief, clearly at a loss for words. Up until this moment he had done a very good job of avoiding any clear view of the memories proceedings.

"I don't want to be here." He finally said and a good deal of nastiness had left his voice. He was just plain tired of arguing with himself when he knew he wouldn't win. Without saying a word Old-Man Christian suddenly gripped Christian by the face with a hand that was much stronger then it looked. Then with a jaw-bruising jerk he had Christian's face pointing in the direction of the loathed memory.

"Now, you listen to me, you puppy! This is your life and you made it the way it is now. But it doesn't have to be that way and you can stop making everyone miserable including yourself."

Christian was so shocked by the turn of his head that he didn't think to push the old man away. And for a moment he was faced with himself at an age he both hated and missed so dearly. Gone were the days of his clumsy fumbling in the dark. Gone were the days of awkward pauses and unfamiliar movements and noises that he couldn't control. This young man in front of him, completely confident of himself, had let loose with a wild abandon that was enviable. It must be wonderful to have that much stamina. Christian found himself blushing furiously but also overcome with longing. It was such a beautiful moment. Truly amazing, what they were doing on that couch, and still managing to keep from falling off. Like a strange dance that only they knew the steps to. Steps Christian had not allowed himself to think about. He was proud of his control, of his ability to cut what he had painfully deemed unnecessary. But for just this moment he remembered. He remembered the feeling of dancing. Like fire pulsing and devouring him in a raging inferno. Sweat dripping down his thighs as her back bowed into a perfect arch. The touch, the smiles, the rhythm, it was everything and nothing at the same time. And for that moment he would have given anything, anything, to feel that way again.

With a neck-cracking jerk, Christian ripped his head out of the old-mans grip. He looked down at his soft green slippers, loathing himself. What a horrible nightmare this was. Passions and sex lasted a moment. Consequences stayed with you forever and plagued your days into pure misery and memories like this one didn't change that. He wanted to kick himself for even giving the ideas a second of power over him. He hoped that he _was _dead because if he wasn't he would spend months aroused and dieing of the longing for her. And there would be nothing to quench it. Nothing that he would resort to. He would just have to suffer in silence and rage and claw at himself from the inside out.

He glared at the floor in frustration as the sounds of a climax were reached. Wanting to fill that air with any other sound he glared at the old man, wishing he could beat him to a bloody pulp and then weep in a corner at the same time.

"Why are you doing this?! You know I can't. You know why I can't get close to her!"

Old-Man Christian quirked his eyebrow and looked at Christian the way one would an unreasonable child.

"And why is that? Your member didn't shrivel and fall off did it? Are your tendencies leaning towards your father's tastes?"

Christian clenched his fists, shaking with fury at the reference to his father. He opened his mouth to retaliate but found that there were no words to the implication. The man in front of him continued without letting him speak.

"Now, don't work yourself up so much that you do something you'll regret later. You do have a propensity for that."

The old man took a deep breath and looked at Christian with those old crinkled blue eyes that had not lost their brilliant color, even in his old age.

"You want to know why you're here Christian? You want to know all the answers to all your problems? Well you're never going to get them. You spend half your days brooding like an old goat put to pasture when you could be loving life, loving her! And you can't for the life of you just let it go!"

Christian wrinkled his face in frustration. "What are you talking about?" He asked.

The old man pointed in the direction of the couple who were beginning to relax into a dreamy state of "I love you's" and languid stroking.

"_This_ is not what caused the problem! No! _That_ wasn't it at all. You see that young man over there has no aversions to spreading her legs apart and giving her a good baby-making plowing! No, what's wrong with you runs much deeper than all of this and you know it!"

Christian felt stunned. But if this was horrible then he didn't want to know what else the old man had to show him. He _did_ know perfectly well what he was talking about and he was going to put a stop to it right then and there.

"No! I don't want to see that! I've put it away. Let me live my life the way I want to!"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth the scene in front of him began to melt away like candle wax in a fire. Old-Man Christian just shook his head, in something that would pass for a sympathetic manner.

"I'm sorry, boy. I can't change the past anymore then you can. But what you need to learn is to stop trying."

Christian looked about him frantically to find that everything around him had changed again. But this time, he knew perfectly well where he was and what would happen next.


	28. To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part V

_Authors Note: For everyone who read the last two versions of this chapter…scratch it! I apologize with heavy heart but I ask you to put it out of your mind. This is now, the official version of "To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part V" If you still hate these five chapters…. I apologize. In any case, I think I like it more now, at least I don't hate it. It's a lot sweeter, but I still think it gets the idea across. It also happens to be completely different from what I was doing before. Not even recognizable as what it was before. If you will reference Chapter Three "Separation" it alludes to allot of the stuff that happens in these memories. I hope it's not too boring and you can keep up with the memories he's walking through. I figured for something so big that it causes Christian to separate himself from his wife, it needed to be something really tragic, hence me trying to write the last two failed versions of this chapter. I think this one is more realistic and in character with the rest of the story…. I hope. If you find it hard to keep up I apologize. I refer to the memory version of Christian as Younger-Christian, but pay attention because sometimes it's Younger-Christian's thoughts and sometimes it's Christian musing on the memory in and of itself. I put the sentences that people speak inside the memories in Italics so that should keep a few things clear. If it's in Italics, it's the memory talkin'. If you have trouble, email me. You can review if you want to…Not much I can do to make you…But I would really appreciate it…(Eeyore voice 'Thanks for noticing me…')_

_On a side note, I did attempt to research one thing pertaining to the_ Noblesse de Chancellerie. _I understand that some would believe that no one would speak to the king that way but I've decided that there had to be at least some people throughout history who dared be that stupid. He's a plot devise, just run with it. And, alas, that is the extent of my historical accuracy. I leave that into the gentle care of _For You Blue _who wrote _**Ses démons intimes**_**. **__It's all you, baby!_

**Song: "Full of Grace" by Sarah McLachlan**

_The winter here is cold, & bitter  
It's chilled us to the bone,  
I haven't seen the sun for weeks,  
Too long, too far from home.  
I feel just like I'm sinking,  
And I claw for solid ground,  
I'm pulled down by the undertow,  
I never thought I could feel so low,  
And oh darkness I feel like letting go._

_If all the of the strength and all of the courage,  
Come and lift me from this place,  
I know I can love you much better than this,  
Full of grace,  
Full of grace,  
My love._

_It's better this way, I said,  
Haven't seen this place before,  
Where everything we say and do,  
Hurts us all the more.  
It's just that we stayed, too long,  
In the same old sickly skin,  
I'm pulled down by the undertow,  
I never thought I could feel so low,  
And oh darkness I feel like letting go.  
If all of the strength and all of the courage,  
Come and lift me from this place,_

_Together we crumble and stumble and fall  
Full of grace._

_Full of Grace._

_I know I can love you much better then this_

_So it's better this way._

**To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part V**

Christian shook his head violently and looked about himself for any one of his three guides. There was no one in the corridor he had somehow found himself in and try as he may he couldn't move his legs to run away from it. Like in nightmares when a monster is coming towards you and there's just nothing you can do to make yourself move faster.

"No!" He hollered out to anyone who could hear him. "NO, I don't want to see this!"

He jerked his head around frantically. "Please!" He called out but it did about as much good as talking to the visions of the memories. No one could hear him.

Everything around him seemed to be spinning. Or was that his mind spinning and he just couldn't tell the difference? When was he going to wake up? Or if he was dead, then where were the burning chasms of Hell they always told him about in Mass? If he had an opportunity to choose he would have personally walked up to the Devil and embraced him for saving him from watching this memory again.

Allowing his voice to quiet away he looked around himself to see that all three of his apparitions had abandoned him. He knew where he was and his senses told him that everything was exactly how he remembered it.

This particular corridor was something of a reoccurring nightmare to him and it made for extremely clear memory and perception of his surroundings. Some hot mid-summer afternoon, the castle was as sweltering as a bathhouse. No candles or lights were lit to try and stem some of the stifling heat.

Without a pause to curse every God he had ever heard of, heavy footfalls came marching up the corridor.

"Here they come." Christian whispered to himself, resigned to relive the memory. For a moment he just listened to the footsteps and closed his eyes as if to pretend he was not where he was. Then he heard heavy breathing and Christian watched as his head Physician Claude came around the corner of the corridor and paused for a moment to catch his breath. Cogsworth was right behind him and he stopped as well to wait for the good doctor. After their short pause they entered Belle's east wing chambers and left the door wide ajar for anyone to hear the conversations going on inside. Christian followed, wishing he could close the door behind him to perhaps maintain some privacy from what had happened in that room during those horrible days of his life.

Taking a look around him Christian felt the familiar rush of being inside Belle's chambers. The sights, the sounds, the smell. It was overwhelming and he involuntarily wrapped his arms around himself as the memories began to unfold themselves. Scanning the room he looked for the man and it didn't take long to locate him. There in a chair, pulled up close, next to the bed was another version of himself. But instead of a remotely young age this man was actually around thirty-two. Really only six years difference to Christian's current age. But by just watching and comparing the differences you would think the gap was closer to twenty years. _This_ Christian had not inherited his due wrinkles and gray hair. Not yet at least. The Younger-Christian of the memory had his long legs stretched out in front of him and his eyes cast to the floor. Despite the dark circles under his lids and the mess of hair on his head that was only halfway inside his horsetail, he still looked like the striking young man of his twenties. Strong and muscular, he took excellent care of every facet of his body and life and looked like it. Leaning against the far wall Christian watched and begged God to forgive him his stupidity.

Younger-Christian bolted upright instantly as the door swung open and Cogsworth and Claude stepped inside. Raking a hand through his unruly hair, he jumped to his feet and took a few steps in the direction of the doctor.

"Thank-you for coming so quickly, Claude."

The man gave one short nod._ "Yes, yes. What has happened?"_

Younger-Christian swallowed _"She's bleeding again. It won't stop."_

The doctor nodded his head again and then looked down at the carpet. He didn't speak for what felt like years and then when he finally did lift his head his eyes were full of pity.

"Your highness, I don't know what else I can do. I have to tell you that, by all accounts, she should be dead."

Younger-Christian's composure was limited and thin. It would not take very much to reel him right over the edge. His eyes flashed and he took another step towards Claude. "Don't you dare say that! You **will** do something!"

Claude lifted his chin to look clearly into Younger-Christian's face. _"I cannot perform a miracle for you, master."_

Younger-Christian seemed to take this as some sort of challenge. If anything he was looking for a reason to lose control. _"You will help her or so help me God I will--"_

He had inched so close to the Doctor that Cogsworth, sensing violence, jumped between the two.

"_Your Grace, please, we are doing everything we can. You must be patient; stay calm. The doctor--"_ Cogsworth shot Claude a scathing look. _"Is going to take a look at the Mistress right now."_

Claude glanced away as if he would like to refuse. He didn't want to see Belle die anymore then anyone else did but he was just one man. He hated watching the hopeful look on his Master's face every day since Belle gave birth to his sons, only to have it dashed as she grew more and more sick every hour.

Sighing deeply the doctor nodded his head _"I will need to send for a few things. In the meantime you better go over there and get her to eat something. She's already almost too weak to move and she just might die of starvation before anything else."_

Younger-Christian would have liked to make a retort to this but was quickly steered away by Cogsworth. With swift steps he was once again in his chair beside Belle. She lay inside her bed, limp as an old, used rag-doll. Pulling his chair closer to her, he whispered her name softly. She stirred in her fit-full sleep and her eyes fluttered open and looked around hazily. Her body was so thin and frail that her skin was pulled taught over her bones and her shoulder blades stuck out at angles they shouldn't.

"Belle, Claude says that you must eat. You will feel so much better, I promise."

Belle's eyes filled with tears and her head rolled back and forth over the pillow to refuse this. _"No…No… please, Christian. It hurts to eat. Please…"_

Younger-Christian placed his hand on her forehead and her skin burned through his. Running his fingers through her hair he pulled his hand back and several clumps of her once alluring brown locks came with him.

The man seemed to be fighting his own desperation. _"Belle, you must. I order you to eat. You have to stay strong."_

Her chest heaved up and down underneath the soft blankets and both Christian and Younger-Christian could see that the bleeding at her pelvis was already soaking through.

She pulled her arms towards herself and Younger-Christian grimaced at how vastly jagged they looked.

"_It's so hot, Christian. I cannot breath. My skin is on fire…."_ She began to scratch at her arms as she had been doing so often as of late, complaining of terrible itches and pain all over her body. He grabbed at her arms and could have wrapped his fingers around her wrists twice.

"No Belle! Don't do that, you will scratch yourself again."

She sobbed once and that sent her into a wracking coughing fit that stole her breath away. When words finally returned to her she placed her large brown eyes onto his face and with the voice of a child, whispered out her plea.

"Please 'Tian. Please…make it stop… make it stop..."

Christian himself was surprised to watch the room fade away into blackness. It would seem that whatever fate was driving him through all these memories wanted him to have the whole horrible story that led him to his awful misery for the last six years. Whoever it was wanted to place each and every nail, picture-by-picture, into his coffin that made him do the things he did to tear his family apart.

Another scene reappeared and Christian would remember this as happening almost the next day from the previous one.

Younger-Christian was standing at the door to Belle's chamber and it was clear that he had not changed his clothing, shaved, or even tried to freshen up. Christian watched as his younger self argued with his daughter's nanny, Katrina, who was standing with the little princess, holding her hand.

Younger-Christian's voice shook as he spoke and he was making unsuccessful attempts to not look down at his daughter, who had never in her life been ignored by her father.

"Katrina, I want you to take Sophia back to her room. I forbid either of you to come near this corridor again, do you hear me?"

His voice was set to a much higher pitch then normal and it sounded unnatural to Christian's ears. He was not used to hearing himself sound panicked.

Sophia's face crumpled pitifully and she wailed as she spoke. _"But, Papa! I wish to see ma Mere!"_

Younger-Christian seemed to wither underneath her high reedy voice and he looked for a moment as if he would break down at any second. But then, squaring his shoulders, he shook his head roughly.

"Sophia, I said no! Now go to your room this instant! You will see your mother when she is well!"

Sophia burst into tears and glared at her father from her much shorter height. _"I hate you, Papa!"_ she said angrily, as she had learned that saying this would usually break him down and get him to do whatever it is she wanted him to do. But when he did not yield, she turned around and ran down the corridor with her nanny in tow. Younger-Christian looked down after her and rested his weary head against the doorframe.

"_So do I…."_ He murmured before shutting the door gently so as not to wake Belle.

The scene melted again and Christian closed his eyes wondering if he was ever going to be free of this nightmare. Or was it perhaps that Hell really was worse then he thought?

Once again he was outside a corridor, only this time it wasn't Belle's corridor, it was the one outside the nursery. Blanching, Christian realized that this was a part of the memory he hated the most, if he could pinpoint what had really sent him spiraling mentally it must have been this. He heard shouting inside the nursery doors. Then quite suddenly Younger-Christian came bursting out of the room and in his arms he held the wisp of what was left of Belle. She barely seemed to be there and Younger-Christian had her pressed gently to his chest. Huge commotion followed as Cogsworth and Lumiere dashed hurriedly behind.

Younger-Christian jerked his head around towards his advisors and lashed out irrationally at them. _"Where the hell were you two! Why weren't you watching her?"_

Both sputtered for an answer but nothing came to them. Belle let out a painful cry as she was jostled inside his arms and Younger-Christian slowed down, which was good for Christian himself, who was having trouble keeping up with his younger self's gate.

Looking down at her face, they walked back to the east corridor. _"Oh Belle,"_ He whispered with obvious despair in his own voice. _"Why did you leave your room? You know you are too sick to move."_

Belle sobbed into his chest and then began coughing so hard that her little body wracked in his arms. She was burning hot with fever and shivered uncontrollably against him.

"_I want my babies…"_ she moaned against him. _"Please, why can't I see my babies?"_

Younger-Christian shook his head, feeling ill himself. _"You are too sick. The physicians said you aren't to see them. I'm sorry, Belle."_

She sobbed harder against him as he attempted to adjust his walk to something smoother so that she moved less. _" I want my babies… They d-don't even…even…even know me! What will I do? They will never know their mother!"_

Younger Christian knew what she was talking about. She believed that she was going to die and actually wished for it. With a burst of speed he turned down the corridor that would lead to Belle's bedchamber. Finally reaching her room, Lumiere had to scamper to get ahead of him so that he could swing the door open as they entered. It was such a mess and looked more like a hospital then a bedchamber, with filthy soiled sheets that had to be changed three or four times a day, scattered everywhere.

He walked over to her freshly changed bed and just as he set her down, with his legs bent to sit in his well-worn chair, she vomited all over his lap. Clearly the movement and excitement had been too much for her sick body and she began to heave uncontrollably. Younger Christian hollered wildly for a bucket, which was handed to him in just enough time so that she could throw-up inside it and not on him. All the food he had force-fed down her throat was now coming back up and he became very pale as her body jerked over and over again with her sickness. Maids and ladies darted about with cool water and fresh linens but Younger-Christian wouldn't let anyone near her as she continually heaved. With more tenderness then he would use to hold a butterfly he held her thin oily hair away from her face and whispered soothingly to her every time another wave of nausea hit her. Before long her system was empty and there seemed to be more sick down Younger-Christian's front then in the bucket. She moaned, exhausted and spit several mouthfuls of saliva and blood into the sickness container he still held out for her.

The servants did not know what to do. They had never seen their king in this sort of role.

For the last two weeks he had hovered over his queen, growling fiercely at anyone who dared do anything for her without his utmost approval. For a man who had once been a monstrous beast it was both heart-rending and unnerving to see him fuss and worry over Belle, holding her hair as she threw-up on him.

As if this weren't enough to cause Christian to burst into tears, there was a horrible ruckus out in the hallway only moments after Belle was able to lie back on the bed and breath deeply after being so violently sick. Both Younger-Christian and Christian turned their heads towards the door as Cogsworth could be heard shouting at the top of his lungs, _"This is not a good time, my Lord Chancellor! The King will see you in his audience chamber when he has had a moment!"_

An angry burst came from the man Cogsworth was shouting at that could be heard all the way to the west wing. _"I have been waiting three days for his highness's audience and he has yet to show me any courtesy! Now tell me what room he is in or I will go searching through every one myself!"_

The door to Belle's chambers burst open and in marched a thin, willowy man, dressed quite elegantly and bore the crest of the Chancellors of the Noblesse de Chancellerie. Christian had vague memories of his arrival at Rose Castle on official business about something to do with the current taxation of the people. With a look of disgust on his face, the Chancellor pulled out his handkerchief and pressed it to his mouth and nose as the smell of sickness affronted him. Even to this day Christian wanted to put his fist through the man's face and see how well he smelled after that.

Younger-Christian did not rise from his spot on his chair. He simply set his back to the man and placed his bucket down on the floor so that he could better wash his hands at the basin that sat on Belle's nightstand. _"My Lord Chancellor, I will see you when I am ready. This is clearly not the time or place to be discussing matters of state."_

The man obviously took this as a complete insult and took two meaningful steps inside the large room. _"Your Highness, you have responsibilities to attend to that are far more important then what your well-paid servants are capable of doing without your help."_

Younger-Christian's anger flared hot and he turned his head around with one quick motion. _"Don't you dare presume to tell me how to fill my position as king. I say when I attend to my responsibilities and I say exactly what those responsibilities are."_

The Chancellor did not wilt underneath Younger-Christian's glare. _"Do you think for one moment that those people out there won't revolt against you without giving you time to blink over it? Do you want a revolution on your hands?"_

When Younger-Christian didn't answer the Chancellor took another angry step towards his sovereign. _"Well, do you!"_

Without so much as a warning Younger-Christian jumped to his feet and faced the man in front of him. _"Get out!"_ He whispered dangerously to the Chancellor.

"For God's sake this is a woman and your people will starve to death if you don't start taking a bit of interest in them!"

"_Then they will starve!"_ Younger-Christian hollered without reserve._ "And to hell with them!"_

The Chancellor scowled at this. _"Not before her!"_ He said dangerously and was received with a look of pure hatred on Younger-Christian's face.

"I am not going to tell you again, Lord Chancellor, get out!" 

As if he had not heard Younger-Christian speak, the thin man continued. _"What exactly is it that has turned our well bred ruler into a common piss-boy?"_

"_Open your eyes, you fool! Your queen is dieing!"_ Younger-Christian seemed quiet stricken by his own words. It was the first time he had voiced aloud the notion that Belle might die and he would have put his hand over his mouth to stop them if he wasn't so proud and unable to admit to this arrogant waste of space that he had said anything amiss.

The man shook his head derisively. _"That's what women do! They die! They die in childbirth! And take note, your highness, that it was you that put her in that bed! She is going to die because she gave birth to your children. Sitting in here, swimming in filth, does not change the fact that you were the one who crawled into her bed and made her to be with child!"_

If Younger-Christian had not immediately lunged at the Chancellor, Christian would have done it himself, though it would not have accomplished anything.

"I am going to kill you, you son of a--"

Perhaps because he was beyond exhausted he was not as quick as he could have been. This was extremely fortunate for the Chancellor because Younger-Christian was entirely capable and willing to carry out his threat. Both Cogsworth and Lumiere threw their arms around Younger-Christian and hung on for dear life as he struggled against them. He hollered out profanities and was returned with shouts from the Chancellor about how Younger-Christian was completely mad and soon the whole French populous would know it. He swore it to Younger-Christian as he was ushered out the door by his own men who thought it best not to provoke the King any further.

Christian himself was equal parts appalled at how he looked when under such duress and how much he would have liked to be the one throwing out the profanities. The whole scene was just as terrible to watch the second time as it was to have lived it in the first. He could keenly see that despite Younger-Christian's angry growls towards the Chancellor, the man's words had sunk so deep into his heart that they would never be retrieved again. Perhaps if he had not said the very same things Younger-Christian had been thinking himself, things wouldn't have turned out the way they had.

For the fourth time the vision faded and when Christian looked about himself he could tell that things had changed for the worse, as well he remembered. Belle was still lying in her bed but she looked as if she already had one foot in Heaven. Her hair was drenched in sweat as it leaked out of her whole body and no matter what Younger-Christian did he could not get her to drink more liquid to replace it. He had been changed into fresh clothes but his hair was still a rampant mess and his drawn face was looking more and more like Christian's own _current_ face. Belle turned her head and her flushed cheeks indicated that her fever was sending her into delusions. She tried to lift her hand but couldn't even muster the effort to do so. Younger-Christian had a wet rag and was pressing it to her forehead, helpless to do anything else for her.

"_Christian…."_ She moaned weakly.

"_I'm here."_ He murmured softly as he had found that loud noises upset her greatly and she would try to raise herself up when she couldn't.

Her eyes were glazed over and though they were facing in his direction, she couldn't see him.

"_Where's the Beast?"_ she whispered and Younger-Christian grimaced. She had been asking this same question for days and it was growing more persistent.

"_He's not here."_ Younger-Christian said firmly and ran the cloth through the cool water again.

She coughed a little and closed her eyes as if she were going to drift off to sleep, but then began talking again. _"I wish he were here…. I need to tell him something. I wish I had told him before I left…."_

Younger-Christian grimly closed his eyes and knew that nothing would come from trying to correct her. Every time she asked for the Beast, whenever he came into the room, his heart broke a little into smaller pieces. Even more so when he had to continually explain to her that he wasn't coming back, no matter how many times she asked.

He sat there for a moment looking at her face and wondering if she was going to say anything else. As if she had read his thoughts her eyes suddenly focused on his and with such pain and sadness she whispered, _"Christian….. I want to go home…."_

Nothing was said for a long time after that and Younger-Christian allowed her to drift off to sleep. He wouldn't or couldn't move from his spot next to her and it wasn't until Cogsworth and Lumiere entered the room that he was finally called out of his misery.

"Your Highness, we hate to disturb you but we need you to come with us at once."

Younger-Christian shook his head solemnly. _"No, I cannot leave her."_

Lumiere gently placed a hand on the younger man's hunched shoulder. _"It is Madam Potts. 'Er illness 'as worsened. She is not long for zis world, mon ami. She wishes to see you."_

This had the desired effect and Younger-Christian looked as if he would love nothing better then to die right there. _"Are you sure?"_ he asked with obvious pain, as he knew that the answer was yes.

They both nodded and Younger-Christian looked helplessly at Belle as if he would refuse their request, despite the cause. Cogsworth also placed a hand on Younger-Christian's other shoulder and patted it softly. _"I will sit with her. You go on ahead."_

Unable to comprehend anything else, Younger-Christian raised himself from his seat and allowed Lumiere to steer him in the right direction. Christian followed them down the hallways, floating behind like the apparition he must be. He had a wonder if this was what they talked about when others spoke of 'your life flashing before your eyes'. He was deciding very quickly that his life really wasn't worth much if this was what flashed before his own.

In no time they reached the south hall where Mrs. Potts had lived for so many years. All three entered the room and Lumiere took a seat off to the side between a much younger looking Lamont and Armand. They were both crying without bothering to hide it and that in and of itself almost broke Christian down. He followed Younger-Christian to the bedside of his former nanny and watched as the man, once so strong and brave and wise, finally broke. Slumping to his knees, he threw his upper body onto the lap of Mrs. Potts and began to shudder uncontrollably. She was thinner and pale but did not seem to be in any obvious pain. Almost the opposite of Belle, she was rather relaxed and looked as if she were merely waking up from a nap. Tenderly she stroked Younger-Christian's hair as he continued to bury himself in her blankets.

"_Don't go, Maman, please don't go! I cannot do this without you!"_

"_Shh shh shh…"_ She hushed him and smiled down at her once unruly charge. _"No need to be so upset. Everything is going to be alright, love."_

He lifted his head and looked at Mrs. Potts with pleading in his eyes. _"I don't know what to do… She won't get better. She wants to die and leave me here all alone! Please, what can I do?"_

So tenderly, in a way his own mother had never done for him, she placed a soft wrinkled old hand on his firm cheek. She did not answer his question but simply looked at him with those same loving round eyes as she always had.

"Do you remember when she first came here and you were so frightened that you would never be able to love her? But you did, 'Tian. You became a man she could love and you learned to love her in return…. I was so proud of you then. Do you remember?"

Younger-Christian nodded his head with great effort. _"Yes, I remember."_

The effort of speaking so much seemed to be difficult for Mrs. Potts and she breathed deeply as she took his large hands in her own.

"I need you to promise me something. Promise me that no matter what, you will protect her. You will keep her safe. Will you do that?"

Younger-Christian swallowed a sob and nodded his head. _"I promise, Maman."_

"_Promise me that you will always love her."_

Without hesitation he again nodded. _"Always."_

She smiled at that and leaned back onto her pillows with a groan. _"That's a good boy. Now, I think I would like to get a little rest."_

She looked at him with the smile still on her elderly features and he obediently rose to his feet with her hands still in his own.

"_I love you, my prince…"_ She murmured as she relaxed against her pillows and closed her eyes. Not allowing her to see him weep he tightened his jaw and with such gentle care leaned over and kissed her on her wrinkled forehead. Then releasing her hands, he strode purposefully out of the room and did not look back.

Christian did not need to follow the younger version of himself to know that he wouldn't make it more then a few feet down the hall before he would collapse against a wall and stay there for hours before returning to Belle's bedside. Christian did not need to go any further with these memories and he refused to do so.

Standing in the middle of the room filled with servants and the Pott's children Christian's eyes darted around before he finally shouted up towards the ceiling. "Enough! I have seen enough and I will not stand here any longer!"

As if to comply with his wishes the scene dissolved once again and Christian found himself standing in the same Great Hall he had started in. He felt like his body was made of stone and he was permanently stuck in the position he was standing in. For years he had suppressed those memories. Years he had pushed them away and now all his hard work and carefully laid plans were crashing in on him. They made him sick to his stomach and he wanted to hurl and vomit but was unable to make a single movement.

He knew they were behind him before they even spoke. The three apparitions of himself, standing so close he could hear them breathing.

"Much to think about isn't it?" Old-Man Christian wheezed.

"Did the lady ever get better?" Boy-Christian asked.

Refusing to turn and face them Christian kept his features blank and nodded. "The day after Mrs. Potts died Belle's fever finally broke. She slept for a week and when she woke up she couldn't remember a thing. She did not even remember giving birth to the twins."

Christian gave a derisive chuckle. "Half the people told me it was a miracle, the other claimed I sold my soul to the devil. Now, I wonder if maybe I did…."

"I think you would remember _that_ encounter." Old-Man Christian replied.

Turning his head to the side, Christian glanced behind him. "Why am I here? What purpose does it serve to remind me of these things?"

He heard the Beast take in a large breath of air. "It could be worse, you know."

With a flurry of frustration that stretched over six long years Christian whirled himself around to face them. "How in hell could it be any worse then that? She should have died and it was my own damn fault!" He paused sucking in air as if he would collapse. "Do you understand that!" Hollering out to them as if somehow they could give him the answers. "I couldn't fix it! I couldn't do anything to help her! How am I supposed to live with that?" He approached the three, clenching his fists; both to plead and threaten.

"Damn it! Explain that to me! Haven't we been through enough! What else does that damn Enchantress want from me!" He turned on Old-Man Christian shaking his fists at him. " What am I supposed to do? You tell me, rot you! I lived through the curse, I made her into a princess, I married her, I made love to her over and over until we made some babies and this is what I get out of it! Damn it, where is my happily ever after! What else was I supposed to do! Why did this happen? Do you hear me you stupid old fool!"

His voice was growing horse and the little control he had left was running short. "She wanted to die! She wanted to leave me after everything we've been through and what would I have done without her? What was I supposed to do? Tell ME!"

Old-Man Christian shook his head sadly. "Oh foolish boy, try not to be so arrogant as to think that you are responsible for everything. You know just as well as anyone what it means to be that tired of life, as tired of holding on as she was. But she stayed and she stayed with you and all you can think of is that for just a fraction of a moment in time she _wanted_ to give up. She wanted to, but didn't."

Christian felt all the energy leaking out of him like a vase with a crack in it. His arms and legs felt dead and limp at his side, though he remained relatively erect. He gasped for breath, his eyes burning without a single tear to be shed. Opening his mouth, he took huge breaths of air and ugly little animal sounds came out. He clenched his eyes shut and hoped that when he really would die that wherever he went wouldn't be this painful. He surely couldn't stand eternity with this agony.

"What am I supposed to do?" He choked out expecting no answer and wanting none.

"Give her another chance." The Beast rumbled.

He sighed heavily and looked down at his feet. He wanted to kick off his perfectly tailored green slippers and just run through the woods so that the forest ground would cut the soles of his feet to shreds and make them bleed. Then perhaps he would feel alive again.

"I do not even know what that means anymore."

He heard Old-Man Christian take a breath. "And that's the big secret. Isn't it, my boy?"

He paused and Christian was surprised to hear a pain in his voice that was all too familiar.

"It wasn't just yourself you've been raging at all these years. You may hate yourself very much but you know just as well as I do that you cannot be so angry with yourself without being equally as angry…."

"With me." Came her voice from behind him.

Christian turned himself around slowly to see that in this nightmarish hell he was in, Belle, or at least his best-kept memory of her, had joined him. Not the one of her when she was young and fresh off the farm, no, this was Belle as he exactly knew her. It could be her on the same day that he was changed back into a beast. Radiant, gray hairs and all. She stood by the door and looked at him with the face of an angel that he had gazed upon so many times.

"No!" He whispered to her unable to control his trembling. "No, I could never be angry with you.…"

"But you are. You are angry with me to this day." She answered, her eyes soft and warm, inviting him to come towards her and yet he felt like there wasn't even a possibility of moving. Why did he feel so lifeless all of the sudden?

"Except the thing is," she continued, "We're losing time, love. We can't go back to where we were; we have to keep moving forward. Please, Christian. You have to forgive me, even if I don't know why."

"I don't know if I can, Belle." He said, his heart sinking.

She smiled at him in a way that would melt stone and reached a soft, gloved hand to stroke his cheek. "You can." She whispered so only he could hear. "And when you do I'll be waiting to help you pick up the pieces."

Then to Christian's vague puzzlement he watched as she turned her back to him, took hold of the latch to the door and walked out of the castle leaving the door open behind her.

He stood feeling the life ebb away from him. How could she leave? He needed her to stay and she had just walked out that door.

"You're supposed to follow her, Christian." One of the three said behind him, he was suddenly too tired to recognize which.

"I wish I could…" He murmured, staring at the door, longing for the strength to try and follow her. But what was the point? Surely if he were to walk out that door, it would mean he would go back to the life he was living. If there even was one to go back to and what point was there to that?

"Why can't you?" Another apparition whispered from somewhere faraway.

Christian dropped his head, suddenly feeling like he wouldn't have been able to hold it up had he desired to. " If I go back…. If I try to make things right with her… she might not ever forgive me… I cannot live with that."

He slunk down onto his knees and prepared himself to lie down. He just wanted to rest for just a little while, not very long. Just close his eyes and rest for a few moments. All thoughts of what Belle would think or what a coward he was being just couldn't matter anymore. His life was useless if he couldn't protect the woman he loved and make things right by her. And he knew he couldn't make things better and he couldn't live with the fact that he couldn't make things better. Both were heinous crimes to his conscience that had plagued his existence for so long he could no longer continue on with the pain of it. He needed rest; he needed a moment where he wouldn't have to be constantly reminded of his own pain.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear a girl weeping. At first it started so faint that he almost couldn't tell if it was a girl or not. His apparitions seemed to have left him because the great hall was silent and deserted except for the sound of crying. It was growing louder and louder and Christian wondered if someone else was being sent to persuade him to go back to whatever it was they wanted him to go back to. Moments passed and still no one appeared. It was all he could to do keep his head from dropping onto his chest.

"Who's there?" He whispered, not recognizing his own voice.

Something about the weeping was strange. Like he had heard it before. It was several moments more before he realized that those weeping noises were actually turning into words.

"_Papa!"_ the voice cried out.

Christian made a great effort to try and hear what the voice had to say.

"_I'm sorry Papa! I'm sorry for everything!"_ He was sure he knew that voice.

"_Come home! Please, don't leave us because I'm sorry!"_

Something felt different inside Christian. As if the substance that made up who he was had changed somehow. Strength that had not been there moments ago was somehow returning. Or perhaps it wasn't strength but the will to carry on. The girl needed her father and he wasn't there for her. For some reason Christian knew that that was why he needed to keep going. He needed to help the girl because in some logic that he couldn't tap into deep inside himself told him that he loved the girl. He loved her.

"_I'm in the glass-house, Papa and it's cold and I'm afraid. Please come and get me. Please don't leave me."_

He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes knowing that to be any kind of man, regardless of what he looked like, he had to get up and go through those doors. And he knew that once the choice was made there was no going back.

_"Because I love you, Papa. I love you so much"_

Christian nodded his head as if she had asked him a question instead of making a statement. Gritting his teeth he forced his legs to work, forced them to bring him erect and once again standing on his feet. He turned himself around slowly to face the doorway of the castle. The doors remained opened where Belle had slipped through and for just a moment he hesitated.

Then with purpose he strode up to them and called up hoping that somehow she could hear him.

"I'm coming Sophia! Belle! I'm coming."

And just as the words were out his mouth, Christian's whole world went black once again.


	29. A Broken Spell

_Authors Note: __**Alright, sorry again that I always take WAY too long to post a new chapter. I do have a good reason this time. As I was finishing up the revisions of "To Sleep Perchance to Dream" I had a chance to reread the entire story again. After allot of thought on the matter I came up with two conclusions. The first was that I have become a much edgier writer then when I first started this story and… I think I like it. The second thing I realized was that my bottom half really needs to catch up with my top. So in an act of giving " Once Upon an Enchanted Rose" a serious face-lift, I have revised chapters eight through fifteen. They comprise of "The Dinner Table, "The Forgotten Family", "Running Away", "The Spell", "The Great Hall", "Defeated", "Picking up the Pieces", and "Her Hero". **_

_**Now some of these chapters merely got a few grammatical revisions. I tried to comb through everything quite carefully and fix sentence structure and whatever else. I am not a perfect writer nor will I ever claim to be but I did try to make things a littler clearer.**_

**Other chapter had their entire dialogue completely redone. I realized that before I took my very long hiatus I tended to write things a little to safely. I think I was scared of what people would say about my writing so I made things a little too sappy sometimes. Don't worry I tried to not make things too dark. Every chapter has a revised authors note to keep you on track. I truly believe this is allot better and I would implore you to reread these chapters, especially eight through fifteen because I sure had a bawl redoing them. Give me a few reviews and invite friends who like Beauty and the Beast to read it too. I would sorely appreciate it. I might do a little more revisions for the first seven chapters but for right now I felt like these ones were the more important ones. If you would like me to explain the differences in revisions more just send me an email and we'll have a nice long discussion about the whole thing.**

_As for this chapter it's pretty self-explanatory. It's not necessarily a stand-alone chapter. There's going to be allot of dialogue, travel, and revelations coming up in a stretch of chapters after this. I will try to post quicker but you just never know when life will get its ugly head in the way. So, bear with me._

**Chapter Twenty-Nine **

" **A Broken Spell"**

"Sophia!!!!"

A deep echo shattered the silence of the clearing.

"Sophia!! Sophia!!"

The girl for whose name was being shouted sat upright with a jerk. Her tears had not yet dried from her face, hair scattered all about her shoulders. Looking about herself, she tried to decipher what could be happening.

"SOPHIA!!!" the shouts came again. It took her a total of ten seconds to realize that it was Chip who must be shouting. He had to be somewhere close to the clearing but was raising a holler that could be heard all the way to Paris. She jumped to her feet and swung herself around hoping that whatever was making Chip yell like that wasn't something that was already in the clearing. Nothing could happen to the Beast. She wouldn't allow it.

Her quick inspection yielded nothing and without another thought she ran plunging into the forest to the direction of Chip's screams.

"I'm coming!" she called out, not quite as loudly.

Unsure of which direction she was actually going, and knowing that dawn would not arrive for several more hours, she picked her way carefully through the blackened wood. Every three steps she glanced over her shoulder to make sure she could still see the fire burning brightly behind her.

Just as the last twinkling light of the flames fell away from her retreating view a horrible crashing noise was heard. Whatever it was it wasn't alone, nor was it small. And there was no mistake that it was coming right for her. She stopped dead in her tracks wondering if whatever was coming would be the last thing she would see in this life.

Not a minute passed by before the figure of a man on a horse came thundering in her direction from behind a cloud of trees. From his shadows there was some other horse and possibly another horseman traveling very close behind him. Sophia opened her mouth and filled her lungs with air preparing to let out the scream of a banshee when the horse came within four feet of her and then stopped. The rider pulled the rains up so hard and quickly that the second animal ran strait into the first one's backside. Both horses let out a shrill whinny and then remained still. Petrified and frozen in her terror Sophia found that the scream she had prepared for was positively stuck.

The dark rider clicked his tongue and then leapt off the horse without any effort. Taking two steps towards Sophia he sucked in air and then started to speak in a voice that sounded very much like Chip's.

"Sophia!" he whisper-shouted sternly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!! Do you want to wake up every violent villager in the country!?"

Chip took another several steps towards Sophia, clearly able to see allot better then she was, having not sat next to a bright fire the whole night through. His hair glistened like silver in the moonlight and had she been able to breath she would have run up and kissed Chip on the mouth without hesitation.

Still, once that particular emotion had passed she found that her mind was catching up with her. He yanked the two horses behind him and reached her just in time to make a few more demands for answers.

"Well Sophia!?! Why are you yelling??"

Narrowing her brow in a way only Sophia could, she took a step back away from him. "I was _not_ shouting! You were!"

Chip seemed a little dumbfounded by this answer.

"No I wasn't!" He sputtered "I had just set foot in the forest after getting this horse and some things from a farmers barn when I heard you yelling." He paused to catch his breath and then continued; voice full of anger.

"I can't believe you just left the clearing like that. Now your father is going to be alone for hours while we try to get back. What if someone finds him, Sophia?!! What if he wakes up?"

Sophia gulped down a raging retort just in time to comprehend how absurd Chip sounded.

"Chip. I think perhaps you are very tired because the clearing is right over there." She pointed her finger directly behind her the way she had come. "At least it was five seconds ago when I heard you calling my name as if you were being attacked. I don't know how you got here so fast." She finished looking about herself and rubbing her arms as the chill set in from standing in one place for more then thirty seconds.

Chip stood very still contemplating this. She heard him swallow hard and then placing a protective hand on her arm he steered her in the direction of the clearing.

"I think I know." He said darkly wherewith he began to run as fast as his legs would carry him. Now, for the two horses this was barely an expended energy, but for poor exhausted Sophia she could not keep up without stumbling over every rock and root that found her aching tired feet. At the point of near collapse they stopped long enough for Chip to wrap the reigns around a branch very close to the clearings edge. Then with gentleness he pulled an arm around Sophia's and glanced down on her, concern etched all over his face. She panted heavily trying her best to keep the noise to a minimal. The firelight danced through the last row of trees making intricate patterns on their faces. Sophia leaned in closer to Chip, not having any notion what could be happening. Was this part of the spell? Had Wilhelm come back for her or her father? She swallowed hard and did her best to down the panic she felt. If something had led her out of the clearing so that they could get at her father she would never be able to live with herself.

She squinted hard in the direction of the clearing trying to see if she could make out any moving shapes within the shadows of the fire. It could have been just a trick of her imagination but she had a feeling that the flame had grown so much bigger then when she had left it. As if the sun was illuminating the whole clearing. There was a strange noise that reached their ears, almost like the cooing of a sparrow bird.

Chip seemed to sense the same inconsistencies because he gripped her shoulder to him protectively and then leaned over and whispered, "Stay close."

Then cautiously they weaved through the trees until they were fully within the boundaries of the clearing. Sophia didn't have time to take the whole scene in before she heard Chip give a small gasp. At first she was more blinded then anything. The light was so much brighter then it had been when she had left. Her eyes weren't picking up whatever it was that Chip was seeing. Then a movement in the corner of the clearing caught her attention.

For those initial moments Sophia had not realized that there was in fact someone in the clearing. It was a woman. The most beautiful woman Sophia had ever seen. At least that is what Sophia supposed she was for there was something about her that wasn't entirely normal. Her hair was the exact color of the firelight, so bright and gossamer it cascaded down to the ground and somehow… melded in with the fibers of her dress. Swathed in the richest colors of emerald Sophia had a bizarre wonder of what this woman would actually look like underneath that dress. Would she have legs? When she moved it wasn't the shift of weight from one foot to another it was as if she was floating; like a boat on a lake.

She didn't seem to be aware of their presence, or if she was she made no sign of it. With the kind of grace and perfection Sophia could only dream about, she slowly made her way from the opposite edge of the clearing to the spot where the Beast lay. It was only when she turned her head that Sophia realized that this strange woman's ears were pointed, as was her face in a way that was altogether unsettling.

She had come to stop right next to the unmoving Beast and Sophia felt a surge of anxiety at the woman's close proximity to her father. She made a motion to go to him just in case this strange apparition had some sort of vendetta against him the way the villagers had. At that moment Chip pulled her in closer to him and his head shook ever so slightly.

"Who is she?" Sophia whispered.

Chip swallowed but didn't seem nearly as frightened as he had before they had reached the clearing.

"That's the Enchantress" Chip said, unable to keep the awe out of his voice.

The Enchantress seemed to have heard this because for the first time she raised her oddly shaped eyes towards the huddling pair in the corner of the clearing and smiled warmly in their direction.

"It's alright." She said softly. "I'm here to help."

Sophia felt oddly calm all of the sudden. As if the voice of the Enchantress had somehow poured hot liquid into ever part of her body and allowed all her tension to relax considerably.

Together they slowly made their way over to the fire where the Beast lay. His breathing was so shallow and slow that Sophia had to stifle a sob as the fear of his death gripped her heart once again.

The Enchantress had returned her attention to her charge and without any effort slipped down to her knees into the same position Sophia had been sitting before she had been called away by Chip's voice. With the tenderness of a mother, the Enchantress stroked the Beast's face and made that strange cooing sound that Sophia had heard prior to their entrance of the clearing.

"Oh my dear," she said softly down towards the Beast's still features. "Not doing so well I see."

It was a strange statement to make and neither Sophia nor Chip made comment on it.

Instead, Sophia, not having grown up in fear or awe of this woman, swallowed hard.

"Is he going to be alright?" she said, her voice muffled by another sob of fear that the answer might not be a good one.

The Enchantress again looked up and this time met eyes with Sophia directly. If the princess noticed that she was staring strait into pupil-less eyes that shone as green as emerald stones she made no indication of it. Merely held her gaze and waited for the answer to her questions.

"Don't worry, Sophia." The Enchantress said warmly in reply. "You saved him just in time."

Sophia felt deeply bewildered by this. "But I didn't do anything. _I'm_…." She paused, afraid that if she made any kind of confession to this woman that she could be in serious danger of being enchanted herself. Except that deep down Sophia knew that she deserved any kind of punishment she had coming to her so she plunged on. "I'm the reason he's like this." Her voice shook so much her words were almost unintelligible.

The Enchantress didn't seem to be shocked by this discovery, though. She merely tilted her head in the opposite direction and her lips twitched into something Sophia could only guess as a half-smile. "I highly doubt you managed that all on your own."

Chip squeezed Sophia's arm protectively and she felt instantly safe with his arms around her. "Was this your doing, then?" He finally asked the woman.

She smiled frankly back up at him and shook her head. "Not this time, Chip."

He didn't seem unnerved that she knew exactly who he, though they had never met in this life.

"If… If it wasn't you then… who was it?" He asked tentatively.

She shifted her gaze back over to Sophia and gave her an expectant look. "Do you know the answer to that, my dear?"

Sophia bit her lip and then nodded gravely. "He said his name was Wilhelm."

Recognition flew across her face and she shook her head sadly. "So it was my little Wilhelm was it? I wondered."

It was all so confusing to Chip. Sophia had told him on the boat that she had encountered a wizard named Wilhelm but at the time he had been sure that the Enchantress was actually the one behind it all. Even now he wasn't so sure this wasn't her meddling that had caused the whole mess. His prior experience to magic as a young boy didn't seem to be doing him any good at the moment, either. Glaring at her in frustration, he was reminded of how the villagers wanted to kill Christian and leave him dead in the forest.

"If you wondered so much then where were you when this all started?! He could have died! Were you even going to do anything?"

The Enchantress rose to her feet, or what might have been feet if she even had any, and took several generous steps in their direction.

"Chip…. I am not omnipotent. I did not know what had happened until after the fact."

"Then why didn't you come and help when you found out? Change him back! He didn't deserve this!"

The Enchantress made an involuntary motion as if to sooth the angry young man in front of her but then thought better of it. Sophia had an involuntary thought that this woman was actually quite strange.

"You know better then that, Chip. Once a spell is cast the caster has very little control over what happens next. That's why we must be so careful with magic. I could not undo what had been done. Only Sophia could break this spell."

Sophia felt her heart plummet to her shoes. "But…" She cried out afraid that her voice would betray her. "But… I don't know how to do magic. You have to be able to do something! You can't just let him die like this because of me!"

The Enchantress softly shook her blond head and made that strange cooing noise again. To anyone listening it would seem bizarre but Sophia felt instantly soothed. The way should would when her father kissed her bumps and bruises as a little child.

"Dearest, you have no idea what you are capable of. If Wilhelm weren't such a terrible wizard you wouldn't have even _needed_ me tonight. You already broke the spell, Sophia!"

Chip glanced at Christian and then gave the woman a suspicious look. 

"Then why is he still a beast?"

She smiled ruefully and then took a step back. "Because… magic sometimes just needs a little push."

Then with a twirl that was reminiscent of a little girl she turned herself around and came back to were the Beast lay. She seemed to smile down on him as if he were a very precious treasure to her that she had found after a long time of being lost.

Sophia shook her head angrily at the woman's cryptic answers to everything. This was her father's Fairy God-Mother? She wasn't making a stitch of sense!

"But… I didn't do anything! I was just sitting there when you showed up!"

Chip shook his head, just as confused as she was. "You must have done something. Did you say anything?"

She glared at him, wondering if this magical madness was seeping into his brain as well.

"Nothing! I was just… talking to myself."

He wracked his brain trying to remember how this all worked. It had to have been something similar to the previous spell. Something that could override whatever hatred it had taken to call up this spell in the first place.

"Talking to yourself…. Or talking to him?"

Sophia felt like she had just been caught in a lie. She squirmed a little underneath his arm and shifted her weight from foot to foot. After a moment it all came tumbling out.

"I'm just so afraid, Chip! I miss him so much and now I'm not even going to get a chance to tell him how sorry I am!"

Chip felt a rush of sympathy towards Sophia and with tenderness pulled her closer to him as she sniffled into his shirt.

The Enchantress seemed to be waiting for her to say something more. Leaning over she quirked her eyebrow expectantly.

"Why does it matter Sophia? If he's such a terrible person, a terrible father, then why does it matter that you get a chance to tell him that you're sorry?"

Sophia looked at her incredulously, as if the question were too ridiculous to be born.

"Because he's my _father_! I love him!"

Chip's arms went slack for a moment and he pulled Sophia a few inches away. She felt instantly abandoned and gazed at his face. Except that he seemed to have found some sort of answer in her words because he immediately began to smile.

"That's it, Sophia! That's how you did it!"

"Did what?"

"You broke the spell!"

"Why would saying that I love him break the spell?"

The Enchantress shook her head a little, as if this should all be obvious.

"That's what it's all about, what it's always been about. Nothing in this world is ever going to matter unless you can learn to love and hope that they'll love you back."

Sophia's shoulders sagged a little at this, knowing that ideally it all sounded good but her life had one too many fatal flaws for sentiments like that to work.

"It doesn't matter then….I don't think he does… love me…And I… I don't blame him. I'm not good enough… good enough to be his daughter."

Her voice caught hard and thrust her air to the back of her throat. She was sinking fast and she could tell that she might not be able to breath again. It hurt to say those things, to finally admit the truth.

To her entire surprise the Enchantress had tears in her eyes and was look at Sophia in a way her own mother would. That look that mothers give you when they know that you know better then what you've said or done.

She shook her head and her lovely butter yellow hair tumbled around her face perfectly.

"I happen to know, dearest, that your father loves you more then you will ever be able to comprehend. And one day you are going to realize that you already knew that."

Any response Sophia could have had to this was lost in her swirling thoughts of the little glimmer of hope she had. The one that told her that deep down her relationship with her father could be healed; That perhaps one day he would forgive her for doing this to him.

The Enchantress was humming a little tune to herself as she once again floated to her knees and softly ran her finger along the Beast's eyebrow. Taking a long look back at the pair in front of her she smiled a deeply beautiful smile.

"It was good to see you again, Chip. You've grown to be a very fine young man."

Chip nodded his head to this but did not give her a reply. She tilted her head to the side and her expression for Sophia was so loving, so gentle that Sophia felt uncomfortable with her looking at her that way.

"And it was a pleasure to get to meet you Sophia…. I have been looking forward to it for some time. And don't worry too much. Things will work out in the end, you'll see."

Then leaning over the Beasts face so that her rose-colored lips were almost touching his ear she whispered loud enough that both Chip and Sophia could hear her.

"Be strong. I will see you again soon."

And with the gentleness of a mother kissing her newborn babe she stroked his fur-covered forehead with the lightest of kisses.

Sophia had been watching with such rapt attention that she had not expected to be totally blinded by the light that followed this. Chip immediately swooped her into his arms and hugged her to him, as the light grew so bright that you could see clearly through your closed eyes lids. There was some strange noise going on outside Chips arms but for just that moment, Sophia didn't care one bit. She would have given anything to stay the rest of her life inside those lovely arms of his.

The noise built and the light intensified and then just as suddenly as it had come it was gone again. Sophia felt that something was totally different about the forest. It had changed and the darkness, the intense brooding silence that had been so suffocating when she had entered the forest, was gone. It was still dark but whatever the spell had done to make everything so frightening was now absent from her senses. She peeked over the top of Chip's bicep and looked about the fire-lit clearing.

"She's gone…" Sophia murmured looking around the circle to see if there was even any indication that she had actually been there. For several moments she seemed to not see anything but the empty clearing and then her eyes alighted on the spot were the Beast had lay. The curtains and drapes they had used to keep him warm were gone as was the large pile of looted treasure the villagers had stolen from Rose Castle. In his place was a very beaten-looking, uncovered Christian.

Sophia sucked in air and without a moment of hesitation ran in his direction. Chip's legs were longer and he got to the motionless figure first. Whipping his cloak off his own back Chip wrapped it around Christian's pale frame loosely. He had stolen several blankets from the farmer's barn in the village and would go for them when he felt like he could move again.

It was a frightening sight. Christian face had not lost the crusted blood that had matted his fur and was now smeared all over his battered features. The blood contrasted with his skin and made him look ghostly pale to Chip. With a gentleness Sophia knew she wasn't capable of she watched as Chip put a hand on Christian's bare chest. It was as silent as a winter morning in January as Chip's eyes flew back and forth between Christian's face and his chest. Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. Christian remained as still as if he had died several hours ago and was now growing stiff. Sophia slowly brought her hand to her mouth to stifle the cry that wanted to wrench itself from her throat. They must have been too late. The Enchantress wasn't able to save him after all.

Then quite suddenly Christian's chest rose up and he opened his mouth to take a deep breath of air. Chips head flew up in relief as Christian coughed hard and choked on the blood that had risen into his throat. Chokingly, without opening his eyes, he moved his head from side to side like a dreamer waking up from a very fitful sleep. Chip sucked in air almost as deeply as Christian; not having realized that had been holding his breath for so long.

As slow was the centuries Christian finally whispered something quietly that both young people had to lean in closer to hear.

"Belle?" he murmured weakly.

Neither one moved as he whispered her name again. "Belle….."

He coughed harder and then moved his head to the side as if in his dreams he was still trying to reach her but could never quite keep up.

"Belle, are you there?" His voice had become so vulnerable and desperate as he called out for her. Sophia felt like someone was running a cheese grater across her heart. She had never in her life heard her father seem so helpless. And it rung as so strange that despite everything that had happened, every separation and heartache between her mother and father, it was Belle that he called for.

As if unable to find her in his search and not having the strength to keep up, a small tear streaked down his cheek through the dirt and blood. Sophia was sure that she could hear her own heart breaking and she reached out her own dirt-covered hand to grasp his, lifting it to her cheek.

"It's alright father. I'm here, it's alright."

Christian didn't seem to register this and his eyes flickered momentarily.

"Belle?" he murmured again and the corners of his eyes grew tight. He seemed to be fighting himself as if he wasn't quite able to make himself wake up.

Sophia shook her head softly. "No… it's me. Sophia."

It wasn't two seconds that passed by when quite suddenly Christian absorbed her words and his eyes fluttered open in surprise. At first he couldn't seem to focus on her, eyes dancing back and forth trying to locate her position. She leaned in closer to his face so that he wouldn't have to work so hard to find her. When his eyes finally did alight on her filthy tear stained face his entire countenance went totally still. Then to her surprise he seemed to inwardly crumple, his hand trembled as he tried to grip her face.

"Sophia?" He choked her name and was immediately followed by a severe coughing fit that lasted for what felt like hours. Chip pulled his water pouch off his belt and tipped water down Christian's throat to try and stem the coughing. After several tense moments Christian still didn't seem to be composed and he gasped for air through his weeping.

"Oh God, Sophia! They said you were dead! Oh my God….. I thought I'd lost you!"

For a moment he shifted his position and tried to raise himself up before calling out in pain. He leaned back down slowly onto the ground, teeth gritted as he tried to breath through whatever had suddenly caused him such instantaneous discomfort. Alarmed, Chip looked around Christian to see what had happened.

"Oh my… Sophia, his leg is broken!" And indeed, his right leg was in fact bent in a direction that was not physically possible.

Breathing deeply Christian tried to look around to find the owner of the voice. "Who's here, Sophia. I can't see a bloody thing…"

Afraid of finding more broken bones Chip leaned in closer to Christian without touching him. "It's Chip."

"Chip?" Christian appeared to be totally confused by this. "Sophia, where are we?"

She looked around herself not sure if she knew the answer to that anymore.

"We're in the forest at Compiègne."

Christian swallowed and seemed to daze out of focus again. "Oh God!" he murmured to himself.

"It's going to be alright, Christian." Was all Chip knew to say. In reality he wasn't actually sure if things _were_ going to be all right. Still, better to be optimistic to the man who had just had his entire body rearranged twice in one week.

Again trying to raise his head he looked about himself, never really focusing on anything.

"Sophia, where is your mother? Is she alright?"

Sophia felt a lump lodge itself into her throat. "I.. I don't know papa. Armand, Lamont, and I escaped through a tunnel that went underneath the castle. I don't know what happened to everyone else."

Christian seemed to be a quite panicked by this and he blinked several times trying to make his eyes work properly. He had a horrible fear that this strange haze that covered his sight was a permanent one. His breathing started to quicken as if he couldn't seem to get enough air to satisfy his lungs.

"I have to find her!" He finally was able to choke out. He felt an urgency that was beyond the worry for his wife's safety. One that stemmed from a fear that went much deeper then Chip or Sophia could ever understand. He knew that if he didn't find his Belle then he would never be able to tell her what he had forgotten to tell her so many times before.

He pushed himself up from his naked torso to try and keep the pain to a minimal but by so doing was greeted with a rush of discomfort in his ribcage. He groaned and tried to sit up strait when Chip placed a firm hand on Christian's chest and pushed him back into the other direction.

"No, no! Don't sit up. Christian, we'll find them. I promise you. I will help you find them but you need to sleep now."

Christian breathed hard through his nose; even in his foggy brain he knew that getting to his feet at that moment wasn't a very realistic idea. He hurt in every part of his body, every inch of him aching and twisting with every breath. And despite his desire to get up and immediately start looking for Belle he felt a deep relief as he was pushed back down onto the ground.

For some strange reason he felt like he needed to explain, he needed them to understand the urgency of finding the rest of his family.

"We have to find them Chip. I forgot to tell her something! I need to find her!"

Sophia leaned back onto her heels and watched. Chip had that look on his face again. The same one he had when they had first discovered Christian in the clearing. A face seemingly filled with adoration and deep worry for this man that lay in front of him. Clearly Christian wasn't entirely with them mentally because very little he was saying made any sense and well, Christian always made sense. He looked up into Chips direction, not really seeing him but trusting that they were listening.

"I promise you that we'll find them. Don't worry I won't let you down. You can rest now."

Sophia felt an envy of Chip at that moment as he pulled several strands of hair away from Christian's mouth and tucked the cloak tighter around his cool frame. She would have given anything to understand the kind of love that Chip had for Christian.

Nodding weekly, Christian seemed to relax his muscles and lay still. He didn't look dead anymore just exhausted beyond recognition. Closing his eyes slowly he appeared to have accepted Chip's answer was allowing sleep to overtake him. Sophia wasn't sure were this side of her father was coming from. This absolute trust in the two of them to find their way through the forest had never seemed like a capability of his character. For just a moment he was quiet and then almost too softly to hear he whispered, "Thank you Chip…"

Then he squeezed Sophia's hand gently as if to say. "I'm still here with you."


	30. Breaking Camp

_Authors Note: Took me longer then expected but not as long as it could have. I'm pleased to present this chapter in conjunction with the next few oncoming chapters. I had actually thought to split this chapter in two but then realized that there really wasn't a great place for me to do so. I apologize if it is too long. You could actually review and tell me so and I'll consider making my chapters shorter._

_I started off liking this chapter, then loathing it with a passion and considered giving up and then liking it again. In the end it worked out and I just love Christian. I think he's such a stud! So I'll try to get another chapter out soon. I have a good one coming up so show some love and maybe I'll do it quickly._

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Chapter Thirty: Breaking Camp

At around noon the first raindrops came rolling out of the sky, tumbled through the line of trees of the vast forest and hurtled itself unceremoniously onto Sophia's forehead.

Shortly after Christian had fallen asleep both her and Chip had snuggled in on either side of him with their stolen blankets. It had been too late to try and do anything else but sleep, both young people having been traveling for days and neither having gotten much sleep in the process. Christian didn't stir and after some time the fire slowly banked and went out. Morning came and the hours ticked on as all three slept long and hard, not hearing the stirring of birds and rustling of trees. In fact it wasn't until the thunderclouds came rolling in and began to tickle their faces awake at noon that Sophia opened her eyes and looked around herself. To her right was the dead fire and to her left was her still battered looking father who seemed to have at least made it through the night alive. She watched as three fat raindrops fell and splashed themselves on his dirt-covered face. Sitting up slowly she looked upwards towards the sky to see that the sun was totally covered by dark ominous clouds.

Slowly she got to her feet only to be rewarded with a painful stabbing in places she had not known even existed somewhere in an indeterminate part of her body. Several moments passed and then the rain began to come down in earnest. A smile spread across her face that was so bright and beautiful it might not have even looked like the real Sophia. She hopped up and down in her man-clothes and even gave a little twirl as the quickly coming raindrops touched every part of her face and body. It was like she was being cleaned after a very long time of filthiness.

"Thank you God." She whispered to the heavens her arms stretched out in an open prayer of gratitude. For a moment it was silent but for the patter of rain hitting the forest floor. Then behind her she heard a deep groan. Turning her body around Christian was stirring from his place next to the fire spot. The cool rain was waking him up and he was resisting it with all his might. He groaned again and then put a hand up to his face.

"Stop it…" He murmured in his half-sleep.

Somehow, even in his deep exhausted slumber Chip heard Christian's voice and his eyes shot open immediately. He looked around himself and then sat up slowly. Rain spattered the back of his exposed neck and danced on the crown of his head making it seem like he had a halo around his sunlight colored hair. Catching sight of Sophia who was still basking in the rain that was increasing with every passing minute, he watched her for a moment as she smiled radiantly at him.

"Oh Chip…" she whispered ecstatically. "It's raining!"

He looked around the clearing and then smiled back up at her. "I'm sure the people of France will be pleased to hear that but… it may not bode so well for us."

He glanced down at Christian whose face was screwed up in anger at whatever was daring to wake him up. Sophia lightly stepped back over to his side and sunk to the ground onto her bedroll, still warm from sleep. Both young people watched with baited breath as Christian finally succumbed to the rain-induced wakefulness and opened his large blue eyes. The skin around his right eye was perfectly black and seemed to droop a little but from what Chip could tell, Christian was actually focusing as opposed to the previous night when he seemed to be completely delirious.

He blinked several times and opened his mouth slightly to taste the rain on his lips. Then with slight fear in his eyes he raised his hand to his mouth and brushed the gash that ran right down the middle of his bottom lip. Bringing his fingers close to his eyes he gazed at them in wonder all the while flexing them several times as if in disbelief that the hand could possibly be his. Not this time, he could not have come out of this again as himself; He just couldn't be that lucky, could he?

Chip breathed heavily through his nose and broke the trance Christian had been under. He glanced up at Chip and then flicked his eyes in the opposite direction towards Sophia. For a moment he gazed at her and his expression seemed to darken a little. Sophia noticed and wanted to look away but couldn't. She was transfixed by her father's face which was battered and broken but seemingly alive. She had not known that seeing him alive and expressive could be more beautiful then she imagined after almost watching him die.

Quite as suddenly as the expression came it went and was replaced by a half-smile. He closed his eyes again. "I had thought perhaps you two were some kind of dream." He murmured. Chip smiled at him extremely relieved to hear Christian making coherent sentences that weren't entirely panicked.

"Well, you were pretty out of it. I think it's possible we _could_ have been to you."

Christian cracked his good eye open and genuinely smiled at Chip.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Chip. I'm very happy to see you…but might I ask what you are doing here?"

Leave it to Christian to ask a question like that, Chip thought. "Well… I hope you'll understand, you see… my King was in trouble and… I wasn't about to sit around and…let him become a decorative trophy for the village's local tavern."

Christian coughed a little and after a few tense seconds Sophia decided that it was probably to mask a soft chuckle. Then shaking his head he pulled himself up onto his elbow and reached a hand around Chip's neck to embrace him. It was the same expression on their faces as had been on Lamont, Armand and Chip at their reunion in England. Both men kissed and held each other for a long time as Sophia watched, fascinated.

"Oh but it is so good to see you, boy!"

Sophia could not recall a time in her life when she had seen her father express so much emotion. It was as if a dam had broken inside him and all tenderness he had never expressed in her presence was now spilling all over the place. She felt a stabbing pain in her heart at their embrace and the fact that he had never shown her the same kind of emotion.

Chip let out a soft laugh. "Trust me, it's very good to see you too! God, I've missed you so much…"

Christian nodded and then groaned deeply in his throat as he wrapped an arm around his bare ribcage. It was blackened considerably and there were several long cuts across his chest and down his side. Breathing through his teeth he leaned onto his elbows and tilted his head back to allow the rain to splash

his face. It caused all the dirt and dried blood to mix together and drip off onto his broad shoulders.

After a moment he finally spoke again. "I'm guessing from the lack of feeling in my right leg that something is wrong."

Chip nodded to him worriedly. "It's broken."

Christian squinted his eyes and looked down at his chest. "Can you fix it?"

"I think so. I didn't want to move you until I had a chance to. But now that it's raining I think we might need to set it right here. It really was a rather inconvenient time for it to start pouring if you ask me. And you know, you're damn lucky they work so hard in the guard to teach us how to set broken bones. I don't think we'll have to put you out of your misery after all."

Christian laughed and then shook his head. "Don't begrudge the rain, Chip. Every prayer I have said for three years was for this day to come. Perhaps not the best timing but I'll take it."

Chip smiled again and then began busying himself with pulling both his and Sophia's saddlebag over to them. Christian held out his hand and Chip grasped it to pull him into a sitting position. Then putting the saddlebag behind him, Christian leaned back onto them with a heavy groan. Breathing hard but now in a relative sitting position he finally took note of Sophia's existence. She had begun to wonder if he was going to speak to her at all. He turned his face to her and she wasn't surprised to see a mournful expression in replacement of the smile that had been there only moments before. He looked her in the eyes for so long that she began to squirm under his gaze and felt that she should say something. As much as she longed to she just didn't feel like giving a simple apology would suffice. 'I'm sorry' worked for a broken vase or a small argument but not for daughters who've made deals with evil wizards that end up turning their fathers into beast all the while sending mobs of angry villagers to come and kill him.

Sophia, feeling the weight of her shame, finally broke eye contact with him and cast her gaze to her knees. When he finally spoke to her his voice sounded raspy and tight.

"How are you?"

She nodded her head without looking at him. "I'm fine."

He was silent for a while and the only noise that could be heard was the rain and Chip setting up some kind of shelter above their heads with the remaining blankets they had left that weren't being used to keep Christian covered.

"I want you to know…." He finally spoke up haltingly. "That I…." He paused unsure of his words. What do you say at a time like this? "I'm just so happy you're alive." He finally finished weakly.

He shook his head quickly in retaliation to the tears that sprung immediately to his eyes. He was already as vulnerable as he had ever been in his entire life. He wasn't about to break down and bawl again right in front of her.

She wrung her hands in her lap and tried her best to keep herself from falling apart. This was just so impossible. It was as if they were standing on opposite ends of the world and no matter how far they traveled they couldn't get back to each other. How could she have been so blind? It was a harrowing feeling to know that even though he sat here next to her he was still shivering in the rain and naked but for the itchy blankets that Chip was able to steal for them. This was the King of France and he had been reduced to broken bones and a battered face all due to her stupidity. He may be alive but it had been to her credit that he had nearly been killed. And had that happened she realized that the last thing he would remember her saying to him was how she hated him. Those three words echoed into her brain over and over again until they no longer made sense and she wished that he would not stare at her with such sadness on his bruised face.

She opened her mouth and a chill ran all the way through her skin and deep into her bones. "I wish… I wish there was something I could say to make things better."

Christian seemed to narrow his eyes a little at this and opened his mouth as if to say something but never got the chance to do so because Chip immediately cut him off, unaware that he had interrupted their fleeting moment.

"Well, I think that's done it. We should be able to stay out of the rain for a while. Do you think you'll be alright if I try and set your leg right now?"

Christian looked up at Chip who had stepped underneath the pathetic shelter he had erected. He nodded and took a deep breath as if to try and prepare himself. Chip got down on his knees and scooted close to Christian. They looked at each other as if communicating with only their expressions as a language. Sophia felt bitter at the thought and wished that her father had had Chip, Armand, and Lamont as his children so that she would not have been such an intrusion on their happy family. Christian sat up straighter and then turned his head back towards her.

"Sophia…. Could you do something for me?"

She perked a little at this, thinking that perhaps she could be of some assistance while he was having his leg fixed.

"What do you need?"

"Could you… could you go for a walk without getting lost? Perhaps find berries or something for a while?"

She felt bewildered at this request. Why did he want her to go for a walk?

"But… I thought Chip was going to set your leg."

"He is." Christian replied somberly as if the idea were a little less then tasteful.

After a moment it dawned on her. "You don't want me here." The implication was simple enough but the reasons behind it were only clear if she assumed it was because he did not care for her company. This of course wasn't the case but to Sophia it always had to be something tragic. She did not know how to function otherwise.

Christian closed his eyes as if he was trying his best to be patient with her. "Please just do as I say."

She nodded her head dejectedly and began to get to her feet. He reached out a hand as if to touch her but then stopped himself, though why he was not sure. "And don't come back for a little while. Regardless of what you hear."

She didn't even bother to ask what he had meant by this, simply stood up strait and adjusted her jacket before taking a step back out into the rain from underneath the overhanging blanket. She thought perhaps she would hang her head a little lower so that it was clear to both men how rejected she felt, regardless of how much she deserved it. Taking several steps away she stopped to pick up a stick off the ground and drug behind her in the dirt forlornly. She knew they were watching her retreating back and it would have been allot more impacting if it wasn't for the fact that her father stopped her abruptly.

"Wait! Sophia, come back here." She stopped and turned around knowing that tone very well. It was the one Christian used whenever he was about to lecture her and she wondered if perhaps he had changed his mind about telling her exactly what she thought he might think of her.

"Sophia…." He began slowly and then finished sharply all with a concerned frown on his face. "Why are you wearing men's clothing?"

For a moment no one spoke. It was the most ludicrous thing Christian could even think to be worried about at that moment. She stood frozen like a child caught doing something naughty. Pulling at the edge of her jacket she felt like this was just one more reason for her father to be disappointed in her.

"I…I… well I…" Her eyes darted between Chip and Christian wondering what she could say to change the look on his face.

"I--"

"It was my idea, Christian." Chip cut in looking equally as embarrassed as Sophia.

"I thought if she dressed in some of my clothes no one would recognize her. Everyone has been looking for you both for days and I just wanted to keep her safe."

Christian studied Chip's face for several moments before turning his head back to look at Sophia. His expression softened and he blinked several times as if trying to recognize her. Then looking down, also embarrassed, he picked at a spot on the blanket.

"Well… you look… fine. Just fine."

He turned his head back towards Chip and glared at him. "Well… Lets get this thing done."

Despite himself Chip smiled a little up at Sophia and nodded to her. Confused, she turned herself back around and continued her trek into the woods away from her father and her Chip.

"Why did you send her away?" Chip turned to Christian the humor not having left his face.

Christian sighed heavily looking out away from them into the forest. "I don't know what happened last night before I woke up but I _know_ that it couldn't have been anything I wanted her to see. Let me have my dignity. I don't have much left."

Chip nodded his head understandingly. "I'm sorry I have to do this."

"It's not your fault." Christian replied.

"I know. But that's not going to stop it from hurting like hell."

Christian grimaced and sat up a little straighter. Chip nodded his head and pulled the blanket away from his legs. The skin on Christian's right leg was red and deeply bruised and Chip swallowed hard knowing that if he didn't do this right Christian would most likely lose his leg later. Pulling a glove out of his pocket he handed it to him.

"Here, bite down on this. No need to break your teeth while we're at it."

Christian took the glove and obediently put it into his mouth, gritting hard. Then reaching out a hand he gripped Chip's shoulder and nodded his head before closing his eyes.

The boy rubbed his hands together and placed careful fingers on Christian's broken leg to try and determine just what way he would need to push the bone. Christian groaned deeply every time Chip touched his skin but kept his eyes closed. Then as quickly as he could he gripped his leg right at the ankle and jerked it hard out. He paused for only a split second and then thrust his leg upwards so that the bone aligned itself strait.

Christian's grip tightened painfully and Chip wanted to pull away. For a moment he didn't seem to be breathing and then letting the glove fall out of his mouth he opened it wide and positively roared. Chip, startled, jumped back in alarm and sat down hard on his backside. It was so inhuman, so animalistic that it made the hairs on Chip's neck stand up in fear. Christian threw back his head in pain and allowed his howl to overcome him, drowning out all senses that targeted themselves to his throbbing leg. He couldn't breath, couldn't see, and couldn't think for his agony. Then quite suddenly he started shouting profanities and Chip felt like sighing in relief to hear Christian use normal language to convey his pain. At least it was natural.

"Merde!!!!!" He screamed out, still sounding a bit unreal. "Merde!! Son of a… Merde!!!!!" Sucking in air he flopped back onto the saddlebags and pressed his balled fists to his forehead. "Dammit!!!" he said through gulps of air. Exhaling deeply and then sinking down slowly as a strange numbness seeped into his body that allowed the pain to dissipate significantly. "Oh God…" He muttered trying his hardest to continue breathing. It wasn't nearly as painful as when he had transformed but it still wasn't a feeling he would cherish in the near future.

Chip had water waiting and he poured it down Christian's dry throat. Then pulling the covers over his half-exposed body he tucked the corners in tightly to keep Christian from chilling. He would have to try and make a fire with the now damp wood. Chip prayed that his master wasn't going into shock because the only trick he knew would be to elevate his legs and well, that wasn't such a good idea at the moment.

After several minutes of muttered profanity Christian reached a hand out to Chip and gently gripped the younger man's arm. Then taking a deep breath he promptly passed out.

* * *

Sophia had gone thirty paces into the woods and then stopped just as the clearing was out of view. She had heard violent roaring behind her and had swung around to run back before remembering what her father had said about not returning regardless of what she could hear.

Was that _him_ roaring? It sounded like.. nothing she had ever heard before. Once some men had brought a male lion to court as a gift to Christian from the south but the animal had only growled at them. She wondered now if the lion's roar would sound much like the horrible howling that was now ensuing from the clearing. Almost an hour passed by as she waited. For a while she sat letting the rain sprinkled down on her until she started to shiver incessantly. Bored with that, she stood and kept herself warm by pretending that a nearby tree was one of the previous night's villagers and began to beat it mercilessly with her stick.

And this was what she was doing when Chip found her. She seemed to be going at that poor tree with such force that Chip couldn't help but burst into laughter in her direction.

She stopped abruptly and wheeled around embarrassed at being caught looking foolish.

Chip leaned up against another tree and laughed jovially at her.

"Don't worry Sophia, I think you've taught that tree a lesson. It's not going to cross you again!"

Sophia glared at him for mocking her and tossed the stick over her shoulder. She was soaked all the way through to her skin and numb with cold.

"What do you want?" She said angrily, trying to cover up her embarrassment.

Chip smiled at her discomfort and waved his arm over his shoulder back towards the clearing. "You can come back now. He is sleeping, kind of. I got a fire started underneath the blankets and it should keep for a while until I get back."

Sophia followed behind him as they returned to the clearing to find Christian awake again. He seemed just as exhausted as before but from what Sophia could tell was fairly alert. He had the blanket pulled up to his chin so that only his mud-covered head was showing and he actually smiled at them as they came into view. Chip veered to the left and began to untie his horse from the tree it had been standing at, lazily chewing on snippets of grass. Christian cocked his head to the side and watched Chip with an amused expression.

"Where are you going?" He finally asked when Chip came near enough to hear him over the fire and the rain. Sophia had crouched down next the flames and was warming her numb hands to it as she continued to shiver from head to toe.

Chip smiled back, glad that Christian wasn't seemingly to be in large amounts of pain. Pulling his extra shirt from his bag he tossed it in Christian's direction. The older man caught it effortlessly and examined it.

"I just realized that English clothing could never suit a man of your caliber. But fear not my king, I will find something lavish enough for you around here somewhere." Chip simpered, mocking most of Christian's French tailors. He raised the shirt to his chest and chuckled as he realized exactly how different they were in size. The shirt wouldn't have even gone over his head. Setting it down on his lap he nodded at Chip.

"You've been mothering me, I see." He said and indicated his leg. Sophia had not noticed before but it was now bound tightly with a blanket Chip must have shredded while she was still out in the woods. He had strapped a long strait stick that ran all the way up Christian's leg, a little past his knee. Chip nodded and smiled brightly at his makeshift leg brace.

"Well, someone has to take care of you Rosiennes! Every time I turn around you're getting yourselves into some kind of trouble. And speaking of which I need to get going if you want to be clothed by nightfall. I'll get back as fast as I can but it could take me a while. I'm not even sure if I remember what way we came."

He stretched out his arms and made ready to mount the horse next to him. Christian looked around himself in bewilderment and was clearly trying to calculate something in his brain. Sophia stared at him frankly as he turned his head this way and that, the wheels in his mind spinning at top speed.

"Chip?" he finally called out to the boy who looked at him expectantly "How long is it going to take you?"

Chip chuckled, assuming that Christian was just being impatient Christian. "I won't be back until dark. Like I said, I'm not even sure if the roads are the same anymore, now that all your magical business is taken care of."

Christian again looked about himself confused and to Sophia's utter bewilderment he actually stuck his nose into the air and sniffed several times in a completely canine manner. Then looking back at Chip he sat up a little straighter on his blankets.

"Why is it going to take you so long?"

Chip cocked his head to the side wondering if Christian was still a little off from the previous nights experiences. "Because sir, the village is almost a half a days walk back that way. Judging from travel time and then finding someone who will sell me clothing for a man as large as you I don't think you should expect me until late. We can start traveling in the morning after I get back."

Christian narrowed his eyes and tilted his head forward. "You're going all the way back to Nanterre?"

Chip nodded wondering where this was going. Christian looked around the clearing once more as if double checking something then looked back at Chip and pointed in the opposite direction of the clearing. "Chip… There's a village just an hours ride that way."

For a moment no one spoke. Surely Christian must have had his brain addled a little more then either of them thought. Chip shook his head "No there isn't. I walked all over this area, there's nothing but forest over there."

Christian gave Chip a little glare. "I assure you there is. We aren't far from the east border of the forest. You're not even close to where the castle was. Did you get lost?"

Chip shuffled his feet and then ignored the question of getting lost.

"Christian there isn't anything over there. I looked."

Waving his hand impatiently in the same direction he had been pointing he frowned at Chip which to Sophia was a pleasant change from his constant frowns at her.

"Well go see for yourself, boy. Not ten paces that way you'll find a road. There used to be a signpost but I imagine it's gone now. The road will lead you right out of the forest and into a small village called Toulon."

Chip shook his head in disbelief that Christian was even insisting on him wasting his time while he just sat their naked and wet. Finally he set his saddlebag down and began walking in the direction Christian had pointed. Stepping out of sight both he and Sophia watched and waited. She looked from her father to the spot were she had last seen Chip and wondered if this was some kind of joke. Then quite suddenly she heard Chip's voice and it didn't sound pleased.

"Son of a B--" He hollered loud enough for both to hear clearly. It wasn't moments later that he came tearing back into the clearing only to stop right in front of Christian's feet.

"How in the hell did you know that was there?" He demanded.

Christian gave Chip a truly impatient look that only he could pull off. "Chip." He said as he tightened his lips. "I know this forest better then anyone. I've been in this very clearing more times then you can count." He shook his head in frustration at Chip's lack of understanding. "What do you think I was doing all those years at the castle? I wasn't in the library reading! I was out here!"

Something about that whole statement struck Sophia in a strange way. She lifted her head in bewilderment at her father but held her tongue while the two men had their…. Whatever it was they were having. Chip shook his head in embarrassment and then jumped atop his horse as quick as lightening. "Well then, _your highness_, I guess I will be back in a few hours." He said sarcastically to Christian. Instead of getting mad, which was what he would have done if Sophia had talked to him like that, he lifted his eyebrow and watched as Chip steered the animal in the direction of the newly discovered road.

"And don't you forget to get something with lots of ribbons and lace! I wouldn't dream of leaving this forest not looking my best! You hear?!!"

Chip threw up his hand above his head clearly telling Christian to 'quite up' and didn't turn around again as he left the clearing all the while muttering to himself something that sounded like. "Rode for hours last night for _NOTHING_!"

Christian chuckled sardonically at Chip's retreating back and barely noticed as Sophia inched a little closer to him. Then as tentative as a mouse confronting a lion, she spoke.

"Why… Why weren't you in the library reading?"

Christian turned his head sharply in her direction. "What?" He asked.

"You said… you said that before… whenever that was… that you were out here in the woods and not in the library reading. Why did you say that?"

Christian suddenly gave her a stark look, as if he had been caught in a lie. His cheeks actually had the decency to go a little pink at her question. Taking a deep breath, knowing that he had to be honest with her, he fiddled with a loose string on the blanket next to him.

"Well Sophia, I… I actually didn't know how to read when I was younger, not very well at least. I didn't really learn how until after the spell was broken and I was twenty-one by then."

Sophia's eyes widened in surprise at his words. It didn't make a stitch of sense. "But…. But you can speak four languages! You… you're the _king_! How could you not have known how to read until you were twenty-one?"

Christian opened his mouth and then closed it and paused for a moment, picking his words. He had walked into this one and made a mental note not to be so opened-mouthed in front of Sophia. She caught things faster then he gave her credit.

"Your mother taught me. And… she is an excellent teacher. I wouldn't have been able to do it without her."

Neither spoke at this. Sophia had not in a very long time heard her father speak about her mother that way. There was a reverence in his tone that she could not remember him using. It was beautiful and she didn't want to break the moment. Finally, truly embarrassed at his revelation of himself he turned his head and made to change the subject.

"Is there anything to eat?" He finally asked without looking at her.

She blinked several times still trying to digest what he had told her. Then coming to herself she nodded and reached into the saddlebags he was leaning against. She didn't like being next to him when he wasn't dressed. It was awkward and… vulnerable. As if her father really did have soft spots and weaknesses that made it easy for people to prey on him. She didn't want to know what those soft spots were and so she shied away from him as far as possible. Except that her footing wasn't on and she wobbled a bit trying to reach inside the pack to retrieve the bundle of dried meats and fruits they had been chewing on for days. With quick reflexes he reached out hand to steady her by placing it firmly on her thigh. Although involuntary she instantly felt soothed from her disturbing knowledge she had attained from him. As if by steadying her he had reaffirmed the fact that he wasn't some weakling who couldn't take care of himself. He was strong and her father and he could at least physically catch her when she fell, however distasteful he might find it.

Handing him the bundle she sat back down next to the fire and covered herself with a now dry blanket that had been set out for her use. Christian chewed slowly trying to ignore his aching jaw that was still so battered and bruised that it hurt to talk, let alone chew. He sighed heavily at the bland food and then pulled the blankets up close to his chin again. And there they sat, silently, to wait for Chip's return.

* * *

Christian slept fitfully, his leg aching deeply enough to keep him awake no matter what position he tried to lie in. The itchy blankets were chaffing his bare skin and they left him raw feeling in places he didn't think should feel raw. Considering how bad it _could_ be he tried to be grateful that his leg had been as easy to fix as it was. Still, it hurt, even when he pretended that it didn't and every once in a while Sophia would catch him making an expression of pain and she would look away in shame. He would pretend he didn't notice but in his heart it broke and he had no idea how to go about fixing her shame. He kicked himself for making such a mess of everything and causing all the women in his life to be so miserable that they couldn't even function properly.

The echoes of the forest reached his ears long before Sophia heard the pounding of Chip's horse somewhere around five o'clock. She had fallen asleep next to the fire and her cheeks were rosy pink from the heat. He was impressed with how very diligent she had been in making sure that there was enough dry wood to place on the fire and had kept it going the whole time Christian flitted in and out of sleep.

Making a mighty ruckus Chip was crashing through the forest on a tired horse that wasn't bothering to pick its way carefully through the underbrush. Christian sat up slowly doing his best not to disturb his leg. He found that if he didn't move any of the muscles from his torso on down that the pain was significantly less. Chip stumbled in to the clearing several minutes later and his horse gave a shrill whiny to indicate that it was tired and wanted to rest now. Sophia sat up slowly and ran a hand across her mouth to wipe away the drool that had run down along her chin. Chip dismounted looking soaked all the way through to the bone. Taking a ginger step underneath the canopy of blankets he immediately started to warm himself by the fire.

"You're back!" Sophia said enthusiastically even though sleep had not quite left her.

Chip smiled at her fondly. "Sorry it took me so long. The roads were pure mud and I had a devil of a time finding everything I needed. Are you both alright?"

Both Christian and Sophia nodded at the same time in the same exact way and Chip had to stifle a laugh at their similarities. Walking back out into the rain he opened up the saddlebag and retrieved a large bundle of clothing that had been tied together tightly with string. He walked back over to Christian and handed the bundle to him.

"I think these will fit you. We can pin them if they're too big though. I also got a couple of extra pairs of stockings because I didn't think it would be a good idea to try and fit a boot over that leg of yours."

Christian shook his head. "No, I don't suppose. Thank you Chip."

The boy shook his head at Christian's thanks. Then taking a step backwards towards the horse he started to untie a long something that had been wrapped up in another thin blanket.

"Oh, and I got something else for you. I was so excited when I found a pair about as tall as you need."

Unwrapping them from their covering Chip produced two hand carved crutches. They weren't terrible looking, fairly sturdy actually, and Chip beamed at them as if they were encrusted with jewels. Almost immediately the smile left Christian's face and he glared at the crutches in the most childish manner he was capable of, although he would never have admitted that.

"What are those?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"They're crutches to help you walk." Chip answered simply.

Christian shifted his position uncomfortably. He could handle the ugly farmer clothing but not this humiliation.

"Chip. I am not a cripple. I will not be using those."

Sophia watched as the latest argument unfolded between Chip and her father. It was like watching an entertaining play. Who was going to win this time? She had her bets placed on Chip; he seemed to be the only one she had ever met who could convince her father of anything.

Chip glared at Christian in frustration. He had spent almost an hour trying to find crutches, let alone a pair that was as tall as Christian and now the man was turning his nose up at his hard earned findings.

"Your highness." He began. "Be reasonable. You're leg is still broken and if you put your weight on it, it could re-break. As it is you're probably going to get an infection and we'll have to cut the thing off anyways. Do you really want to make it worse?"

Christian glared at Chip and it looked so much like Sophia that for a moment he just stared at his master. It was uncanny how alike they were. Except that their stare-down didn't last long due to the fact that Christian knew full well how right Chip was and that he wouldn't win this particular tête-à-tête.

After a moment he broke eye contact and gripped the bundle of clothing to himself while holding his other hand out. "Fine. Give me the damn things!" Chip did as commanded and handed the crutches over. Jerking them out of his hands Christian set them down hard next to his leg all the while preparing to stand up to cloth himself. Turning his head in Sophia's direction, still glaring at the world in general she gave him a startled look now that he had turned his irritation towards her.

"You, girl!" he barked, unable to keep the growl out of his voice. She gave him a dejected look and got to her feet at once.

"I know, I know. I'm going…." She began to walk slowly out of the clearing. Christian, feeling instantly angry with himself, sighed heavily.

"You don't have to go into the woods. Just lean up against that tree and don't look behind you."

Sophia turned and gave him repellent look. "I don't think you need to worry about that."

Whereupon she immediately leaned up against a nearby tree and pressed her face into her arm, leaving the other hand on her hip. Christian shifted his weight onto his hands and for the first time in days began to raise himself off the ground. Chip took a step in his direction and was received with a bark.

"I can dress myself, boy!" Christian said irately. "I don't need your help."

Chip let a smirk rest on his features, folded his arms, and leaned up against another tree to watch the proceedings. Letting the blanket slide off of his body, he stood on his good leg, not letting the other one even rest on the ground. He leaned over and picked up his bundle and shook it out of its ties to locate the pair of drawers Chip had smartly remembered. It was such a painful awkward position trying to lean against the tree and remember to not set his other leg down. He slid several times and nearly lost his balance. At one point he pressed his back too hard up against the bark of the tree and was painfully rewarded with a twig stabbing itself into his side. He swore and pulled it out of his skin tossing it in Chips direction immaturely. Chip would have been snorting with laughter if it hadn't been for the fact that this was so humiliating for Christian and out of respect he remained silent. After several agonizing moments of being unable to simply clothe himself, Christian let his head flop forward in defeat. He wasn't going to be able to do this alone and he had a rush of self-loathing as he waved his arm in Chip's direction to submit himself for dressing. The boy didn't hesitate and as carefully as he could helped Christian put on the drawers, trousers, and the one boot for his left leg. Christian actually had two men servants at Rose Castle who often dressed him for parties so it wasn't the help itself that was the problem, it was the principle of the matter. He was completely helpless with this leg, just as he had been when the villagers had beaten him to a bloody pulp. He felt worthless no matter what form he was in. Breathing heavily, he took a rest and held his leg still for a few moments. His bare chest was mottled from the cold and he did his best to keep himself from shivering. He looked over at Sophia who was still obediently pressing her face into her arm and humming to herself the way she used to as a child sitting in her nursery.

"You can come back over here now." He called to her.

She popped her head up and looked over her shoulder to see him standing with his crutches underneath his arms, wearing a pair of trousers the color of mud. They looked to have been previously owned by a farmer who weighed fifty pounds more then her father and were tied tightly around his waist with a piece of rope. She sauntered back over to the two and sat down on a felled tree stump. Christian took several practice steps with his crutches and found that he didn't enjoy the sore pain that came from the wood rubbing against his underarms. Turning his head towards Chip he glowered in the younger man's direction.

"I'm going to go and relieve myself now, if you don't mind. And if you follow me to come and _'help',_ I'll bite you!" he said with more then a little cynicism. Then snapping his teeth together he turned himself around and used his crutches to make his way into the forest and out of sight. Chip made an indeterminate noise that sounded allot like "Fhhtu!" and then turned towards Sophia with mild glare. "There is absolutely no mystery where you get it!"

* * *

It took Christian longer then he would have liked before he was able to slowly make his way back in the direction of the clearing. He had to be careful where he put his food atop the underbrush so as not to trip on anything and fall onto his leg. If it hadn't been raining the sun would be setting shortly and he desperately wanted to get out of the forest before they had to settle down again for the night. He had told Chip this earlier and hoped that when he got back to the clearing they were breaking down camp and preparing to leave.

So he wasn't expecting to hear Sophia and Chip arguing at the top of their voices upon his return.

"Ow Chip! Stop pulling!! Ow! You're hurting me!"

When they came into view it was Chip standing behind Sophia and from what Christian could gather he was trying to twist Sophia's hair into some kind of knot on the top of her head. This was utterly ridiculous looking as Chip didn't have one iota of finesse to try and manage all that hair at once.

"It's rather hard with this mane of yours Sophia!" He gave her hair a tug and she screeched out in protest. Chip threw up his arms in surrender. "Fine! I guess we'll just have to chop it all off because I don't know how Mary fit all this into your hat." He said raking a hand through her tangled mass of hair. Sophia called out in alarm and jumped back. "Don't you touch my hair!! You're not going to cut it off!"

"Well then there was no point in you wearing those clothes because you can't look like a man with hair that long!"

"Then give me _my_ clothes back!"

"I can't! I traded them for your father's clothes!"

"You _traded_ my clothing!?"

"They weren't actually yours anyways! They belonged to Master Dominic! And this is beside the point! We have to do _something_ with your hair or people will spot you!!!"

Christian took several halting steps into the clearing and then stopped. "What's going on over here?" He asked wondering why they were going at it at a time like this.

Sophia wheeled around and stomped her foot childishly. "He's going to cut my hair!!" She whined as only Sophia could whine.

Chip folded his arms in frustration. "Her hair wont fit back into the hat. It's _everywhere_!"

Personally Christian found this to be the silliest reason to be having a fit for both of them but he kept his face passive anyways. As quick as he could he made his way to the felled tree-stump and sat down with a small groan.

"Come over here Sophia." He said waving an arm to her. She shook her head violently.

"I'm not letting you cut my hair!" She said, a small whimper in her voice.

"I'm not going to cut your hair, suspicious girl. Now get over here!"

She made her way over to him submissively. He waved her to sit down on the wet ground so that her head was at his knees.

"You're too tall for me to try and stand but I am sorry you have to sit in the wet." He murmured to her. She nodded her head wondering what he was about to do.

As gently as one would stroke a baby rabbit Christian began to run his hands through her hair. They had no brush or comb to speak of and so he did his best to try and untangle some of the twigs and leaves that had gotten impossibly caught in her brown locks. After a while he seemed satisfied enough that he separated the hair and slowly began to braid it. Wrapping it around her head he used a bit of string to tie the end and then tucked it underneath itself tightly. It wasn't the best braid he'd ever done but it would do. Sophia had sat perfectly still throughout the whole process and when he was done he ran a few fingers along the nap of her neck at the hairline. It was such an intimate thing to do. More familial then anything else he had done for her in so long that it made her shiver and she wondered what had come over him. But instead of asking these questions she ran a hand along her now tamed hair and turned around to face him.

"How did you know how to do that?"

Chip had been wondering the same thing but had still not recovered his ego from this morning of challenging things that Christian might know.

Christian smiled amiably at her, flexing his fingers. "Your mother taught me." He replied with good-humor.

"When?"

"Hmmmm I think it was a little after you were born. We were…. I suppose we were having some sort of game. We were trying to see who was better at mastering each other's skills. Trying to prove that a… man, a king, could do the same things a woman could and vice versa. She learned how to fence and became very proficient with a bow and arrow. This, humorously enough, is the reason why you were allowed to learn these same skills in your education. Most princess' aren't allowed to know how to handle a sword, let alone do it as well as you do." Christian grinned at his daughter and the smile lit up his whole face. The thought had never once occurred to her that she was being educated in some way other then what was the norm for a princess. It shocked her and she wasn't able to really think but to stare at him. He gently took her hat out of her hands and placed it on her head to cover up her braided hair. She blinked several times and was strongly aware of his close proximity. It had been so long, so long, since he had sat next to her like this. Relaxed, smiling, as if they were real people and he cared for her company. She begged fate not to let it end too quickly and have him sink back into that melancholy expression he wore whenever she was near.

"And you…. Learned how to braid hair?" She asked feeling like this was some sort of jest he was telling her. She was mildly surprised as his face broke into a full smile and he actually graced her with a genuine laugh. "Silly as it may seem to you, your mother was very firm on the idea that these seemingly insignificant things, like being able to braid your daughters hair, was of the utmost importance. We used to practice on your dolls and I must say, I am pleased to see that I haven't totally lost my ability." He said all this with so much humor in his voice that had she closed her eyes it wouldn't have even sounded like him.

Chip was shaking with silent laughter at the whole story. Swallowing to try and cover his chuckles he called their attention to him. "Who won the game?"

Christian turned his head around and gave Chip and incredulous look. "Do you even have to ask that question? You know it was Belle. Although I still stand by my claim that I am the better cook!"

Both men laughed and Sophia couldn't help but smile as well. Her father cook? It was the most ludicrous thing she had ever heard. But the idea made him smile and she had not seen him smile like that in so long that… ludicrous or not she was going to hang onto the idea for dear life.

"You two spent allot of time together back then?" She said feeling like her heart had, for the first time in years, set itself properly into her chest where it belonged.

Chip snorted. "You don't know the half of it. They were inseparable. There couldn't have been two people in the history of the world who were more in love then your parents, Sophia."

In innocence Chip had only been trying to explain to Sophia the awe he felt whenever anyone spoke of the relationship between Belle and Christian. His intentions had been nothing if not complimentary and Christian was still not aware of the conversations between Chip and Sophia about the very subject. In which case he reacted immediately to the words as if each were a taunt at all that he lacked. As if someone had cut the smile right off his face with a knife. His shoulders sagged a little and he reached a hand around to grasp his crutches trying to cover the painful memories of his past. Sophia felt the change immediately and was at a total loss as to why the mood had changed so abruptly.

If the truth were told Christian would only admit to himself that it was better that Chip had brought him back to attention. They _had_ been inseparable. They _had_ been all those things. But he had ruined it and he still just couldn't find a way to make it back to her. And if she was lost to him and he had already missed his chance to try and make things right then he didn't want to even try and remember what things _used_ to be like.

Taking his crutches he rose from the stump and limped over to the saddlebags were his shirt lay. He slowly leaned up against his tree and pulled the shirt on over his head to finally clothe himself properly. It felt good to no longer feel like an animal. He wasn't even sure why he had ever liked being undressed before; it was awkward and left you vulnerable. And he thought to himself of the truth that one of the only things he and Sophia had in common right now were that they had both been left to their barest form for the other to see plainly. It was an abhorrent idea at best and he banished both their experiences of nudity from his mind. If they didn't talk about it then, to him, it didn't happen.

Sophia turned an accusing look to Chip as if to say _'Now look what you've done!'_

He opened his mouth as if to apologize to Christian for his compliment but then thought better of it. Christian wouldn't like too much attention called to his pain.

Several moments went by in silence as Christian tucked the old tatty shirt into his too-big trousers and raked a hand through his own unruly hair before tying it up with a bit of string. He sighed deeply and looked out over the tops of the trees to see the sunlight almost totally gone. They would need to travel quickly if they wanted to get out of the forest before dark. After several moments of contemplation he turned back to his young companions.

"I think it's time we get a move on. We have a long way to go."

Sophia nodded her head somberly and Chip turned his to the side towards the direction of the road he had traveled on that morning. "Do you know where they could have gone? Do you think perhaps they are back at Rose Castle?"

Christian shook his head. "I doubt it. They probably have no idea the spell is even broken. They will have traveled north towards Constantine."

Chip looked a little pale at this. "Are you sure they would travel north? There's nothing up there."

Christian smiled wanly at Chip. "Trust me, there is and I'm positive that in this kind of situation Cogsworth would have gone directly that way."

Chip looked about himself and then shook his head. "Christian, I sent my brother's east. How are they going to find the others now?"

Christian waved his hand to be reassuring. "Don't worry, Armand and Lamont are extremely clever. I'm sure they figured it out several days ago. Constantine isn't well known but I can guarantee that rumors of a royal caravan traveling north will have reached Italy by now. They are smart enough to have listened to the gossip and changed directions."

But Chip's guilt was baiting him and he wanted more then just Christian's vague hope that his brothers, whom he still saw as young boys, would have made their way through the spell-deranged countryside. "But what if they didn't?"

Christian gave Chip a determined look. "Then as soon as we get to others I'll make sure a party is sent out of find them. Alright?"

Chip, knowing that Christian would do as he said nodded and then quickly made his way to the horses to prepare for their leave of this God-awful forest and all the trouble it caused. All three seemed to feel the weight of their on-coming journey. Like a storm blowing in the from the distance they had no way of knowing how hard things would come down on them. Perhaps if Christian had known how long it would be before he could make things right he might have lingered a little longer in the forest he secretly loved so much.


	31. Breakfast With the Blacksmith

_Authors Note: Okay, so as promised I split this chapter in two. The next will come in about a week when I've finished it. This serves to make chapters a little shorter, although I guess that depends on your definition of short. There is still going to be a lot of traveling time before I'm going to be able to wrap this whole story up. I still have to fix a previous chapter that has been bothering me for weeks. Strangely enough it's allot harder to re-write a chapter then it is to come up with one out of thin air. In any case I really hope you enjoy this chapter as I've enjoyed writing it. I'm a little concerned that no one is reading this anymore but I'll still try to get chapters out quickly to those who are actually reading this, just not reviewing. Between this and the next two or three chapters there is going to be allot of revelation about Chip and Christian. Most of that is just things I've come up with on my own to give my characters depth. I don't expect every person who reads my story to swallow everything I write. It's just my interpretation. As you may have noticed I have a bit imagination and this story is what occurs when I am left with it for too long on my own. Hope you enjoy and look forward to more coming out soon! PLEASE REVIEW!(P.S. I didn't spend allot of time revising as I wanted to post this right away so if there are allot of grammar mistakes try and ignore them. If you can't, email me and I'll see what I can do.)_

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Chapter Thirty-One: Breakfast With the Blacksmith

Over the space of the next few days the three travelers made their way carefully across the French countryside. The first night they slept in an abandoned one-room home just outside of a village not too far from the forest's edge. The place smelled of years of neglect and the roof leaked but all were far too exhausted to care much. After starting a small fire in the pathetic looking fireplace Christian, Chip, and Sophia curled up in the corner of the drafty house and tried to keep warm through the night by pressing their shivering bodies as close together as they could. No one worried very much about propriety when it was too cold to even say the word without your teeth chattering.

The days seemed to pass slower then eternity for Christian. His exhaustion was only rivaled by his dire need to get to where the rest of his family was. It plagued his sleep and dogged his brain whenever he was awake. The rain, though entirely welcome, was making the journey painfully slow. The second evening they had used the last of their money to pay a farmer for the use of his barn as a place to get out of the downpour for the evening. A chill had set into the air that sunk deep into Christian's leg and left it aching painfully to the point where he couldn't think for all the ways it hurt. He turned over in his fitful sleep, pulling himself away from Sophia who was squished between the two men. Without meaning to, he whined shrilly in his sleep and then whimpered. Chip, still being awake at this point, heard Christian's whine and was strongly reminded of Otto, the dog that had lived at the castle through the spell and on until Chip turned sixteen. Everyone had loved that dog with his fat little squat legs. He used to whine whenever there was too much shouting throughout the castle, which usually came from Christian.

Sitting up slowly so as not to awake Sophia he looked over at his masters whose face, which was twisted into a pitiful expression of pain. He whimpered again in his sleep and then turned over. Chip felt his heart wrench with sympathy for his master. It was his job to protect his king and so far he felt like he had failed miserably at it. Instead of keeping these two safe he had been too busy groping Louise and drinking tea at Fortesque manor. All the while his home and family was in deadly peril. He glared at the ground in frustration and made as if to wake Christian but then thought better of it. At least Christian was asleep and waking his master to try and comfort _himself_ was a stupid idea.

Standing up slowly, Chip pulled his own blanket off his body and then as gently as he was capable wrapped it over the top of Christian and Sophia. At least this way they would be a little warmer between the two of them. He stood over their sleeping bodies and studied their faces for a moment. Christian's was still twisted in his silent agony; Sophia was peaceful for once and didn't stir despite her father's pitiful canine-like noises. He studied the intricate curve of their noses, their defined eyebrows, and their long eyelashes. Chip determined that despite the deep ugly bruises on Christian' face, and the dirt that covered almost every inch of Sophia's, they were both the most beautiful things he had ever seen. Even in this ugly setting they looked royal and not for the first time in his life Chip felt out of place next to them. Gloomily he took a few steps out of the barn they were sleeping in and began building up the dead fire they had put out before they all went to sleep. He had a feeling it was going to be a long, cold, night.

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It wasn't until the next day that things began to get interesting. Up until that point Christian and Sophia had paid careful attention to not show their faces to any of the farmers and wayward travelers they met on their journey. Most of the time they allowed Chip to do the bargaining and it turned out he was actually quite good at it. Apparently England had taught him to schmooze in ways Christian hadn't been aware he was paying for.

As usual they had all woken early that morning and not having any food or money left simply took their leave and started to head north once more. An hours ride in they came upon a two story farmhouse that seemed to be well enough off to suppose that the occupants could afford to give them a loaf of bread and perhaps some cheese. A small plump woman came out of the back door that Chip had knocked on. She had a round sweet-tempered face and large blue eyes that twinkled when she smiled. Most people they encountered were leery to give away food or lodging to travelers who wouldn't even lower their hoods, but not this woman. She simply patted Chips shoulder from her perch on the step and then walked back into her kitchen to retrieve the food they had requested. It was so refreshing to see someone smile for once in the suspicion ridden country that all three relaxed considerably as they waited for her to return. She came bustling out and handed Chip a bundle wrapped in an old piece of cloth. She again smiled and pattered on about the strange downpour of rain and then wished the travelers well, bidding them to go ahead and feed their horses in her stable before they took their leave.

"Heaven knows those poor animals look like they have traveled far."

And indeed all three horses looked dead on their feet. Christian was well aware that they would need to procure fresh ones soon, though how or where he had no idea. He was so distracted by his horses and her prattle about how she hoped they were traveling safe that he habitually raised his head and looked strait up into her face having spent his whole life looking down to no one. With the smallest of smiles he said softly " Thank you, madam."

At that moment both Chip and Sophia froze in their positions and looked at Christian. Perhaps it was their reaction that alerted the woman to something suspicious because upon hearing him speak she took a step forward off her stoop. Once she had done so she was now several feet shorter then Christian and looked up into his down cast face, trying to cover up his mistake. None of the three travelers moved as she placed a hand on his arm and gazed directly up into his eyes and it didn't take her more then thirty seconds to recognize exactly who he was. As if to ground him, her grip tightened on his arm and she leaned her head in.

"It's you!"

Christian opened his mouth to deny her but was silenced when she turned her head sharply and hollered out, her voice far louder and more powerful then she had seemed upon first arrival.

"Sebastian! Sebastian, come here this instant!"

Both Chip and Christian winced and Sophia put her hand to her cheek finally realizing just how much danger they could be in right now.

Christian supposed that Sebastian was this woman's husband. There was any number of chances that this Sebastian was a bounty hunter, the village sheriff, or just some common worker looking for the reward money that would come from bringing a royal family member into Paris. And as much fight as Christian had in him he was keenly aware of just how fragile his body was; how easy it would be to take him down.

As it turns out Sebastian was in fact a blacksmith. He came running out of the shop, a hammer in his hand, grease covering his arms up to his elbows.

Misunderstanding the situation he took a look at the three standing in front of his wife and trotted over to stand in front of the tallest traveler who seemed to be threatening her. Christian looked down on the man with the hammer raised in defense against what he thought to be marauders.

With a glare he must have thought seemed truly menacing he reached up and ripped Christian's hood off his head in much the same way Louise had to Sophia in England.

"Let me see your face you--"

But whatever Christian was, Sebastian never got to say. As soon as Christian's battered dirty expression was in full view Sebastian stopped his rant and lowered his hammer immediately. It came across as at least a little curious that these people recognized him so instantaneously but it wasn't something Christian could dwell on for very long. Sebastian dropped the hammer to his side, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"Your highness!" He then dropped to one knee into the mud and bowed his head respectfully.

"Please forgive, my king. I did not know it was you!"

Christian grimaced as Sebastian's wife also dropped into a low bow and then nodded his head.

"Its quite alright." He mumbled helplessly. They both rose to their feet, still looking rather astounded to have Christian standing at their doorstep. Then almost at once they snapped back to life, moving simultaneously.

"Well, what are you doing woman?" Sebastian barked at his wife. "What are you about, letting him stand out here in the rain!"

Without any offense she nodded and looped her pudgy arm around Christian, steering him through the open door with strength he would not have predicted she possessed. Sebastian snatched his hammer out of the mud and trotted over to the cellar to retrieve heaven knows what. All of this was done leaving both Chip and Sophia still standing in the rain looking at each other with bewilderment.

Sebastian's wife pulled Christian into a modest but well furnished kitchen and placing her thick hands on his stomach, steered him backwards until he had carefully set himself down onto the bench that was used for the dinning table. He did his best to keep his crutches underneath his arms and once he was safely seated pulled them up and placed them carefully on the bench next to him. The woman bustled around the room in a flurry and after several anxious moments Christian realized that she wasn't exactly preparing to turn him in to higher authorities. In fact, two minutes after she had gotten him to sit down she sidled up to him in a manner that seemed a little friendlier then your typical peasant. She had a warm bowl of water in one hand and a clean cloth in the other. Then without even bothering to ask his permission began to wash his face in such a gentle manner he couldn't help but remain still, even if it was for the shock of the whole situation. All this went on so quickly that at that moment words had totally failed Christian.

"Oh and what have you done to your lovely face, your highness?" He winced as she pressed the cloth to the large gash at his lip. "Oh dear, that is going to scar."

A few minutes into this and Christian was alarmed to hear heavy footsteps above him as someone started to descend the staircase into the kitchen.

"Mother? Who is that down there with you?" came a male voice to accompany the footsteps. From the weight of the footfalls and the tone of the voice Christian put the young man at around eighteen.

She turned her head to the staircase and the young man made his appearance just as Sebastian came bursting through the door, his arms loaded with several jars of canned and pickled produce and bundles of different kinds of meats. He looked about himself a tad frazzled that he wasn't going fast enough. Looking at the ruddy-haired young man who had just come into view he glared in the boy's direction.

"Rolly! Are you just getting up!? Get your lazy bones down here and fetch some water to boil! Be quick about it too. I need your help getting things ready!"

Christian made an uncomfortable noise as if to object to whatever it was Sebastian was getting ready when the boy caught a good look at Christian. It must have been a strange sight for Rolly, having some dingy stranger in his kitchen that seemed to have his mother's utmost attention.

"Get ready for what father?" He asked bewildered as his mother simpered over Christian.

"Who is this strange fellow?"

Both Sebastian and his wife froze immediately and if Christian had not been so preoccupied with planning his escape from these people he would have laughed at their expression.

Sebastian set down his load on the table and snatched Rolly around the collar to pull him into a corner as if this would block all sound from Christian's ears.

"Don't you know anything boy!? That is the king you just called strange!"

Rolly looked astonished at this revelation and turned his head sharply to look at Christian's dirty, travel-worn appearance. He focused intently at Christian's bruised eye which had become a dark purple, tinged with yellow. Christian shrugged at the boy knowing how he must look to this whole family.

Rolly looked back at his father quizzically. "Are you sure that's him?"

Sebastian heaved an impatient sigh and then pushed the boy out the door to fetch the aforementioned water for boiling. Christian, having recovered from his shock finally pushed the woman's hands away gently. She was still fussing over his appearance when he caught his words again.

"Madam, I thank you for your hospitality but I must be going. I have a very long way to go before--" The woman cut him off almost immediately.

"Oh, your highness, please allow us to serve you breakfast! We would have been much better prepared if we had known you would be stopping at our humble door. Please don't leave just yet!"

Christian looked at her pleading blue eyes and sighed heavily, knowing that look all too well. For some reason people were always doing this to him. Making those faces that melted his heart so that no matter what they asked he was forced to grant their request. He was reminded of how much easier things were when he was fiercely angry at the world and able to reject people without a thought. He nodded his head and once again submitted himself for pampering.

"Sophia…" He called softly. "Chip!"

Both young people poked their heads into view from the still open kitchen door. Having been forgotten but believing Christian had been in no immediate danger they had not moved from their spots.

Christian waved them into the kitchen and looked back at the woman in front of him.

"I hope you won't mind serving my daughter and my servant as well."

Christian felt just the slightest twinge of guilt at calling Chip his servant but as of that moment he had no other words to describe the boy's position and hoped that the lad would forgive him.

The woman blinked several times and looked over at the pair who had just entered her kitchen. "Your daughter?" she asked breathlessly.

Christian nodded his head and held his hand out to Sophia indicating that he wanted her to take it. She did cautiously removing her hood to reveal to her face to Sebastian's wife.

"Yes. Forgive me for not introducing her sooner. I daresay you took me by surprise knowing who I am. This is my daughter, Sophia-Belle." He turned his head to Sophia and nodded reassuringly. Sophia looked at her father and back at the woman and then nodded cordially to her. "Sophia this is…" he paused realizing that he had no idea what this woman's actual name was. He turned to her a bit rattled wondering how he could have been so rude as not have inquired after this woman further before allowing her to clean his face. She, seeing his distress, came to his rescue with a soft smile.  
"Call me Olive, dear." Then turned her attention back to Sophia she shook her head a little frazzled. "And goodness gracious my dear, what are you wearing? I thought you were another man standing at my doorstep!"

Sophia immediately glared at Chip who wilted a little under her scowl. "See! I _told_ you everyone would think I was a boy!"

Chip shrugged his shoulders apologetically and Christian had to suppress a smile. What an odd pair these two made.

After several agonizing moments she turned her attention back to Olive and then nodded agreeably at her. "Do forgive, Madam." She paused to look back at her father for support and then finished with, "You have a lovely home."

Christian nodded encouragingly at her as Olive swished her hand this way and that and smiled warmly at Sophia.

"Oh child, but you are as beautiful as they say underneath all that dirt!" After which she took her washcloth and began to clean Sophia's face as well. Both Christian and Sophia looked at each other in bewilderment at the odd determination this woman had to assure that King and Princess had clean faces.

Chip was glad that Christian couldn't see his face. His smiling at Olive's assessment of Sophia would have given him away. Lowering his head he whispered to himself things he would never dare to say out loud in her presence. "So beautiful."

Christian nodded and then turned his head to the side to try and locate his Chip who had separated himself from the rest of the group. Loud footsteps were once again heard as Sebastian and Rolly reappeared, arms loaded with buckets of water and chopped wood. Christian nodded his greeting to them and continued as they made their way to the hearth.

"And this is my most trusted attendant, Christoph Potts."

It wasn't exactly typical for the king to introduce one of his servants with quite that much pride in his voice but as it stood Christian was not interested in traditional etiquette when it came to Chip. The boy himself was surprised at his master's introduction and didn't step forward for a moment to take Olives outstretched hand. In that same moment of hesitation, Sebastian had made a strange jerking motion that caught Christian's eye keenly. Chip eventually took Olive's hand and kissed it amiably and did not notice the blacksmith take a step in his direction with the most peculiar look on his face.

"I don't suppose," He began slowly "That this would make you the son of Jedidiah and Cordelia Potts, now would it?"

Chip, upon hearing his parent's names, jerked his head in Sebastian's direction.

"Yes, sir. How did you know that?"

Sebastian again gave Chip a curious look. "Well, we will have much to talk about at breakfast for I knew your parents very well, son. Especially your father."

Christian had his palms pressed down on the bench and was now watching Sebastian carefully.

"Who did you say you are, sir?" he finally asked.

Sebastian gave Christian a piercing gaze as if trying to access his question. "As it happens I was once a royal blacksmith at Rose Castle and knew _your_ father as well."

A dark look seemed to pass through Sebastian's eyes and Christian raised his chin in understanding. Sensing unpleasantness Olive interrupted the moment by banging pots and pans together and called for her husband to come and assist her in preparing the meal. The discussion was over for the moment.

In no time at all, the kitchen was bustling with the preparations for a breakfast for fifty. After having been rejected in their pleas to assist in the cooking the three travelers were ushered into the dining room. Once they were seated comfortably in front of the fire, Olive produced three teenage daughters each only a few years younger then the last. All three girls were beside themselves with giddiness to have Christian and Sophia in their sitting room and took every opportunity they could to bring tea and stoke the fire. The eldest, who went by the name of Faith, was a little inclined to flirt with the King's servant. This had the effect of making Sophia inch closer and closer to Chip every time Faith entered the room. Christian had to stifle a smirk at Sophia's obvious possessiveness every time the girl raked her eyes over Chip's white-blond hair to his robin-egg blue eyes.

The youngest daughter, Charity, was caught twice by her mother peaking around the center beam at Christian. Only being fourteen this girl had not lost her boldness around strangers. Christian was strongly reminded of Sophia and smiled at her ruefully. Taking that as acceptance she ventured forth audaciously.

"Why is your leg broken? Did you trip and fall?"

Olive, hearing her daughter's voice appeared quite suddenly from the kitchen, a small bowl in her hands. Charity, not seeing her mother, continued her interrogation.

"And why is your face all bruised up? Did you get into a fight with those villagers Papa keeps taking about?"

Before Christian was able to open his mouth to her questions, Olive was clear into the room and had Charity by the arm.

"Young lady! We do not ask the King if he has been in brawls with villagers. Do you hear me girl!"

Turing her flushed face to Christian she gave him a pained look. "Forgive her, your Highness. She is an impetuous girl who hasn't learned her manners yet." Olive glared at her daughter who in turn looked up at her mother innocently.

Christian smiled and nodded his head. "It's quite alright." Then shifting his eyes to Charity, he winked. "I do suppose I look a mess, don't I?"

Charity nodded gravely at him and he chuckled at her honesty. Olive shooed her daughter back into the kitchen before waving the bowl towards the three sitting next to the fire. "I found the last of the butter we churned early this summer. Now we will have a bit to cook the eggs with. Quite a celebration if you ask me."

Christian shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Oh Madam, I wish you wouldn't! You should save the butter for a special occasion."

Olive laughed kindly and clicked her tongue at Christian. "And what do you suppose will happen to this family that is going to be more special then having the recently resurrected king and his daughter joining us for breakfast? The only person we're missing now is the Pope, I daresay!" And without another word she exited back into the kitchen.

Breakfast was beyond what any of the three could have hoped for. As first they all tried to be polite, taking as little as possible of this modest family's food. It wasn't until after Olive threatened to spoon feed them that they finally tucked in with abandon to propriety. They ate until all were full of eggs, toast, porridge, fruits, bacon, ham, tarts, puddings, and whatever else the family had managed to put onto the table without bowls tipping over the sides. Christian could not remember a time when he had been forced to go hungry. It was a humbling experience for him in light of the recent drought and he felt a sense of deep gratitude at the way his stomach bulged slightly from overeating. Sitting back and taking a deep breath, Christian smiled at his host and hostess and wondered why he had not taken the time to allow his subjects to speak with him the way this family was. It was if they were a part of him now and he them. Their love, though somewhat naïve, was comforting the way a warm blanket would be on a rainy day like the one they were experiencing. The conversation lilted over safe topics until finally it seemed Sebastian could stand it no more and he finally looked directly at Christian.

"Your highness, I hope you would forgive my boldness. I realize that I am only a blacksmith after all, but I am very curious as to what happened to you in the last few weeks. It's not exactly normal for a king to rove across the countryside, dressing his daughter as a boy-servant and showing up on doorsteps begging for food."

All eyes were on Christian, including Charity's and he was temporarily stumped at the inquisition. Sophia and Chip were eyeing him nervously wondering what he was going to say to appease this family's curiosity. He took his napkin and wiped his mouth and hands to stall for time and then shifted his legs, trying to keep it from hurting too deeply in one position.

"There was…." He began pausing to try and gather up the half concocted excuse he had been mentally preparing since he'd awoken in the forest. "An unfortunate accident at the castle that forced us to leave quickly. Due to these circumstances we found ourselves in dire situations that made it necessary to travel in disguise."

Sebastian rubbed the scruff on his face thoughtfully at Christian's vague explanation and between the two men both knew that neither believed the story. It wasn't the blacksmith's place to question the king but as it was Christian who had shown up on _his_ doorstep, he took a gamble.

"I don't suppose it would have anything to do with those villagers they're going to hang next week."

All went silent for a moment as the revelation took effect. Christian raised his head slowly and looked at Sebastian calmly. He had to make an effort not to give himself away. These people could still want his hide drug into Paris where any number of his relatives would be clamoring to have him disinherited.

"And what villagers would those be, sir?" He asked evenly.

Sebastian picked at his nail while speaking. "The ones who came shrieking out of Compiègne forest four or five days ago. I suppose you haven't heard, but they've been charged with the murder of the king and the ransacking of Rose castle." Sebastian paused for a moment for dramatic effect.

"Peculiar, really, but rumor has it that the whole lot of drunkard's actually admitted to the murder. The only problem is that none of them can remember how or when or even why they would do such a thing. Not to mention it is an awfully long walk from their village all the way to Rose Castle. You'd think someone would have noticed them dragging your dead body around."

"So you'd suppose." Christian grimaced at how very near Sebastian was treading to at least some of the truth.

"And of course there's a bit to do in Paris. I guess some of your long-lost cousins have decided to come out of the woodwork to stake their claim to the throne, now that you're dead you see. And since your wife and sons are nowhere to be found I wonder if you're going to have a throne by the time your are finished eating breakfast with us."

Christian looked at a knot in the table for quite some time. Almost all this was news to him. His well-trained brain instantly began to make preparations. Envoys would need to be sent out as soon as possible to try and stop the pandemonium in Paris. He also realized that once he made it to Constantine he wouldn't have much time before he would need to travel to Paris and sort this whole mess out. That and it would probably end up being a countrywide tour. The citizens of France would need to know that their king wasn't dead, just extremely lucky.

"Where are they holding these villagers?" He asked solemnly.

"In Richleu. They're to have their necks stretched next Saturday."

Christian nodded his head and pressed his lips together tightly. Sebastian being much shrewder then a blacksmith aught, eyed his king. "You're not going to let them are you?"

Christian shook his head quickly as his mind spun over the best way to get a message to Richleu to post-pone the execution. "No, no it was all a horrible misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding that seems to have given you a right good shiner and a busted leg, I daresay."

Christian hiked the corner of his lip up in a twinge of a smile. What an odd man this was, he thought to himself. Finally he nodded his head and gave the man a definitive smile.

"Thank you for the information, sir. I can assure you that everything will be worked out as soon as I find my wife."

Sebastian nodded. "Well, you'll be pleased to know that there has been scant gossip about her death. In fact I'm certain there's been talk about a long train of carriages passing just by here not a week ago."

A soft light came alive in Christian's eyes and he nodded slowly at the thought that they were heading in the right direction after all.

Not much was said after for a few moments. Sebastian's children were all in awe of their father's boldness with the king and frankly all a little surprised that Christian wasn't exactly the ogre he was sometimes made out to be. Chip shifted in his seat and then, not being able to keep silent any longer leaned forward. By doing this he managed to strike the attention of all the three sisters. Faith, sitting the closest to him, had inclination to bat her eyelashes in his direction and was in serious danger of Sophia's fork "accidentally" finding her leg.

"You said you knew my father?"

Sebastian's thoughts still lingered on the previous conversation and didn't seem to hear Chip at first. "Aye." He finally answered, still rubbing his chin. A long silence lingered after which Chip, in a significantly meek voice, spoke again.

"What was he like?"

Christian blinked several times as he gave Chip a peculiar look. What had he meant by that?  
Sebastian's expression softened as he also looked at Chip, obviously seeing something in the boy's face that no one else could see.

"He was the best man that ever lived." He paused, pulling the memories out from some faraway place. "Hmmm… I knew your father when I lived at your Rose Castle, oh, twenty-five years ago. This was before I met my beautiful Olive and Jedidiah was like a brother to me. I wish he could have seen you boy. I know that he wanted a child so very badly."

Chip's eyes were like dinner plates; starved for the information he was being fed. Christian's face narrowed in confusion at he rapt way his servant was watching this man speak.

"Was.. he… Was he a blacksmith like you?"

Christian went completely still at this question. Was it at all possible that Chip really did not possess any knowledge of his own father? He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. Even Christian himself periodically heard stories about his own tyrant father here and there. How could it be possible that no one had spoken to Chip about Jedidiah?

Sebastian shook his head a tad confused himself. "No, he was the royal huntsman; More comfortable on the ground underneath the stars then in a real bed. It always surprised me that he married such a proper lady like your mother."

Again Sebastian paused and then smiled to himself. "It was something of a jest in the castle but your father was always making up these wild excuses pertaining to his whereabouts. In actuality he was secretly sneaking off to the kitchens to spend time with your mother. He would come back with armloads of leftover tarts and pies for those of us working down below in the shops and would tell everyone who dared to ask that he had found them in the livery stable or what have you."

Both Sebastian and Christian burst into chuckles at the memory and Christian rubbed a spot on his dirty trousers. "I remember that about him…." He smiled softly, "He always snuck me things from the kitchens whenever I was sent to practice my riding."

Christian's head was bent, still staring at the patterned dirt that seemed to cover every inch of his being. If he had been looking up he would have seen, rather then sensed, the look of bewilderment, then hurt, that played across Chip's face. It was slowly dawning on the boy that his King had surely know allot more about Chip and his family then he had cared to disclose. Normally this would have been Christian's prerogative but Chip had been certain that Christian cared for him. It felt strangely like betrayal.

The presence of Jedidiah Potts sank heavily into the room before Sophia, totally enraptured by the conversations going on around her decided to speak.

"What happened to him?"

Sebastian gave Chip, then Christian a look of acknowledgment before eventually answering her.

"He died, your majesty." He said evasively.

She looked at him as if he were stupid, having already known that Chip's father was dead. The question had pertained to _how_ he had died, not _if_ he had died. A million questions swirled through her head, as they had done ever since that fateful night in the castle only a few weeks ago. Christian smiled at his daughter's look of impatience and then decided it was his turn to be overtly nosy.

"When did you stop working for my family?" he asked.

Sebastian looked at Sophia out of the sides of eyes and then back to Christian's interested face. "A little before you came to the castle, sire."

Sophia's face scrunched up in confusion at that knowledge but remained silent, not wanting to upset the conversation and make it stop.

"What made you leave?"

Sebastian's eyes became hooded for a moment and then he shifted his position on the bench before opening his mouth to speak.

"The King had made orders that we were to usher the little boys through the back tunnel of the smithy that led directly to his chambers in the west wing. I suppose I didn't care much for your father's sleeping habits. I--"

It wasn't so much the movement as it was the noise Christian made. His eyes became a little panicked and he sucked in air through his nose as if stopping himself from gasping. He made a jerking motion with his head to silence Sebastian who cocked his own to the side in interest.

"Aw, so you do know what I'm talking about, don't you? I wondered."

Christian didn't speak for a long time as he looked at Sebastian with an air of disturbance. Sophia and Chip were both watching the exchange with rapt attention, neither able to interpret the meaning behind the recent change in conversation.

Finally Christian nodded his head at Sebastian in a way that could almost be interpreted as surrender. He exhaled air through his mouth and slouched a little in his seat.

"Yes." He finally answered. "But I would appreciate it if you would not disclose that information to anyone else. I've spent a good long time trying to separate my wife and children from my family's reputation."

Sebastian's eyes softened at Christian's request and in a gruff manner he slapped Christian on the arm. "Don't worry, boy. You may look like your father but anyone with half a brain knows that you are not he. And for that I am deeply grateful."

Christian clenched his hands together knowing that Sophia was waiting impatiently for an explanation. He gritted his teeth knowing she wasn't going to get one. Olive prattled about the kitchen cleaning up breakfast making attempts at lightening the mood after the unpleasant conversations that had ensued. Christian looked about himself, his stomach churning from too much breakfast and a dire need to stray away from Sophia's inquisitive looks.

"I want to thank you both immensely for your kindness. I hope someday I can return and repay you the favor. If there is anything we can help you with before we depart please tell us so that we might be of some assistance."

Olive twirled around and looked at Christian with a sad expression, then glanced at her husband in irritation. They spoke to each other with their eyes and Christian was strongly reminded of Belle. He wondered if his wife and himself would live long enough together to have the ability to communicate without words. It was possible though, that it wasn't time that would change that between them, it was Christian himself.

Olive looked back at Christian who had risen to his feet to retrieve his traveling cloak that was now dry next to the fire.

"Is there anything else _we_ can help _you_ with your highness? It has been… a dream come true having you here."

Christian smiled warmly and began to shake his head when Charity decided to speak up once again.

"Perhaps he would like a bath!"

All went silent for a moment before Olive closed her eyes in horror at her youngest daughter. Christian looked down at the girl, her unruly red hair falling into her freckled face.

"A bath?" he finally had the presence of mind to ask the girl.

She nodded her head vigorously. "MmmHmm, we have a bath tub in the washroom. My grandmother left it to us when she died. It's very nice to wash in when one is dirty like you are! And you are filthy, your highness!"

Both Sebastian and Olive sat stunned at their daughter. Chip was so glad for situations like this because they made life bearable. Lifting his arm he pressed his face into his pit and smelled himself thoroughly. "You have to give it to her, your highness. We _do_ stink!"

Charity nodded her head again as her brother Rolly shook with laughter next to her. The other two girls were blushing furiously and were making attempts to hush their younger sister up.

Sebastian looked from Christian to Chip and then back to Christian again. "She didn't mean it, my King. She's not a very polite girl…"

Christian raised a hand to call for Sebastian to discontinue his apology. It was such a humorous thing to be told to bathe by a fourteen-year-old girl. He made a mental note to tell Belle about it if he ever saw her again. Turning himself around he looked at Sophia who seemed to find this whole situation quite funny indeed. She looked up at her father and smiled at his obvious discomfort. As softly as the brush of a feather he reached over and ran his fingers along her chin and her smile widened considerably.

"Well, how does that sound? Would you care for a bath?"

Sophia's face became pained for a moment before she nodded her head emphatically.

"Yes" she said, a small tremor in her voice.

Sighing deeply he turned back to Olive and Sebastian. "A bath would be wonderful." He said, knowing that if anything it would be the best thing to help boost Sophia's morale.

"We'll help you collect the water."


	32. Like a Father, Like a Son

_Authors Note: Okay, as promised here is another chapter. I have been planning on writing this one for a while and am pretty pleased with the way it turned out. I love the idea of Christian being such a huge figure in the lives of his servants. Chip being such a beloved character from the movie needed way more depth then he was given and I think we're getting there. This chapter will also mean allot as we get closer to the end so stay tuned! Please read and review. I need at least one per chapter._

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**Chapter Thirty-Two: Like A Father, Like A Son**

It took the better of part of the late morning to haul water from the well, warm it, and then fill the bathtub inside the washroom. By the time the task was completed Sophia was nearly giddy with excitement. Upon seeing his daughter's delight at the prospect of taking a real bath with real soap Christian couldn't bring himself to give her a time limit. Both he and Chip opted to get clean in the stream that ran along the line of trees that bordered Sebastian's farm. Sophia had made noises to protest but was soon silenced by Sebastian's three daughters, Faith, Hope, and Charity, who were far too eager to play the part of attending maids to the crowned princess. Giggling at top volume they ushered her into the washroom to be cleaned and primped to no end.

Christian and Chip exchanged their clothes behind a curtain for towels and a fresh change that Rolly had procured by going to the nearby farms and asking for Chip and Christian's sizes.

It would seem that God took pity on these two men because for the first time in days the rain was blessing them with a small reprieve. It didn't take the chill out of the air but better then nothing.

It was still summer and so the stream wasn't cold to the point of death but it still made their teeth chatter before numbness set it. Both scrubbed themselves with Olive's freshly made lye soap till their skin once again resembled skin and not mud. Christian sat on the bank of the stream for a while letting the water run over his sore leg, relishing in the absence of pain.

Chip had been rather shy at first to remove his towel, fearing that any of the four girls might accidentally peak out the window of the house. When Olive assured him that his modesty was safe and all the young females were completely enthralled with washing Sophia's hair personally, he eventually inched into the cold water. Once clean, the boy amused himself by damming the stream up; forcing it to pool just enough to give the spot some depth. He then showed off his still rather young age, flopping backwards into the water with loud splashes.

Christian laughed and flicked water in Chip's direction before reaching for his towel. After the first few days of trying to maneuver himself around with a broken leg he was

learning how to shift his weight so that he could stand and dress himself on his own. Using a rock to keep balance with, he pulled on clean drawers and his new trousers. This was still enough to use up his energy to which he sat down heavily on his rock and attempted to dry his hair.

Chip sat at the bottom of his makeshift pond so that the water came up to his torso and ran across his bent legs. He hugged his knees and rested his chin, all the while watching Christian methodically dry his hair this way and that. As if to be nonchalant, the boy traced patterns in the running water and then spoke loud enough for Christian to hear underneath the towel.

"Why didn't you ever tell me you knew him?"

Christian stopped mid-stroke across his scalp and peered at Chip beneath his semi-dry hair.

"I suppose when you say _him_, you mean your father?"

Chip gave Christian an impatient look. "Of course I meant my father."

Christian pushed his hair around a few more times with the now damp towel and then shrugged his bare shoulders as if to shove the topic away from himself.

Finally he spoke choosing his words carefully. "It wasn't my place to discuss him with you."

Chip's temperature rose with his normally controlled temper. "What do you mean it wasn't your place!? You're the bloody king! If you had wanted to speak with me about him you would have, regardless of whose place it is!"

Christian grunted in annoyance. "You do not know what you're talking about boy."

"Don't I?" Chip countered shifting his position in the water and holding out his hand to indicate that he wanted his towel. Christian threw it at him a little harder then he had intended but Chip caught it with ease and wrapped it around his torso as he picked his way out of the stream. "Then please do explain it to me, your highness!" Sarcasm dripped from his lips in a way that shocked even Chip.

Christian shook his head not caring to take the bait even in the slightest. Perhaps in his younger years he would have countered this statement with a retort but not anymore. Not with Chip.

Reaching for his crutches he tossed his newly procured white shirt over his shoulder and carefully placed the crutches underneath his arms. Chip quickly rubbed himself over with the towel and pulled his own drawers and trousers on so quickly it made Christian jealous. Turning himself about Christian took a step back down the path that led to the farmhouse.

"Well!" Chip shouted after him, his anger fueling his aggression.

Christian paused but didn't turn around. "Well what?"

"Answer me! What do you know about him!? I haven't heard anything ever, not one thing. No one has ever spoken of him. Was he such an awful person or did you order everyone into silence?"

The accusation bit hard and Christian glared at the ground. He breathed twice through his nose and again reminded himself that it was Chip he was talking to. Getting angry wouldn't solve anything. This was something Belle had told him over and over and he found if he just focused on her lovely face that sometimes the fury would dissipate enough for him to put together a rational thought.

Finally he turned his head and looked at the boy standing behind him. Something about Chip's stance was familiar. Instead of threatening it was almost childish and Christian was strongly reminded of the same sad little boy from the castle. He was now glad for all the restraint Belle had taught him because had he retaliated in much the same manner he was being handed he would have missed that look in Chip's eyes. The one that screamed for understanding beneath the anger.

Christian shook his head sadly at Chip. "No, Sebastian was right when he said that your father was the best man that ever lived. And to be sure I never asked for silence about him. I imagine those orders came from your mother."

Chip looked stunned at the idea and took another step in Christian's direction. "But why?" he finally asked and his voice sounded higher then usual.

"I don't know." Christian answered solemnly and then swallowed.

Chip again glared at Christian harshly. "Yes you do. You just don't want to tell me."

Christian sighed heavily as if this whole ordeal was wearing him out. Finally he looked away from Chip back into the direction of the line of trees. He was keenly aware that under very few other circumstances would he allow someone to speak to him like this. He hadn't even let Sophia speak to him like this. He would have to consider that when he had time to himself.

"Well, what do you want me to say?"

Chip let his shoulders sink in frustration. He deeply wanted Christian to rant and rage at him. He didn't want to have to make any more decisions for anyone else. He wanted Christian to fight him and degrade him and tell him that he was out of line. He gripped his fists and clenched his teeth together painfully.

"I want you to tell me that you have a damn good reason for not telling me what happened to him! I need you to--"

Christian threw up his hands and almost upset his crutches. "Well I don't Chip! I don't have a good reason. I have no good reasons for anything that happens to anyone!"

"That is not an answer!"

"It's the best you are going to get!"

The two men glowered at each other but each for totally different reasons. While Chip's were obvious, Christian was internally battling with himself. He had always known that he would have to explain his past eventually but for some reason he had hoped that it would be at a much further time from now. And besides, spilling his history to this boy would only serve to drive him away and Christian couldn't bring himself to bare that thought.

"I don't have anything better to give you, Chip." He finally said, not able to keep all the anguish out of his voice.

Chip took another angry step in Christian's direction. The shouts that had echoed all over the space between the pair and the farmhouse left a hallow silence that seemed to speak for itself.

"Don't you dare do that!" Chip said and Christian was surprised to hear the emotion in his voice.

Christian gave Chip a quizzical look. "Do what?"

Chip again gritted his teeth and looked at the ground in disgust. Christian wasn't sure if it was aimed at him or whatever else Chip was thinking.

"Don't you dare give up! Don't you dare hand me your surrender just because things are hard! If you ever say that you have nothing better to give me again… I'll… I'll.."

Christian opened his mouth slightly at Chip's rant and then closed it again waiting for the boy to finish his threat. The reversal in the boy's tone of voice, from dramatic shouts to almost incoherency, was worrying. Christian heard the side door to the farmhouse open and slam close. This was followed by loud footsteps running along the path that were unmistakably Sophia's.

When she wasn't ten feet away from the two men she stopped and said breathlessly, "I heard shouting! What is going--"

Upon seeing her father's face clearly and then Chip's she stopped dead in her tracks and didn't even require her father's warning hand to keep silent. Taking a step back she watched with worried eyes as the men regarded each other.

Finally Christian spoke. "I do not understand you Chip. Where has all this anger come from? What happened to you?"

Chip, having caught sight of Sophia in her now clean clothes and expertly braided hair was at some sort of peak in his ability to remain rational.

"Of course you don't understand!" he screamed out in frustration. "You never understand!"

Christian would have stomped his foot it he knew it wouldn't topple him over. "Then make me understand!" He shouted back.

Chip reached his hands up onto his head and then raked his fingers through so hard that tufts of white-blond hair came down when he lowered his arms. "I need you Christian! Don't you understand that I need you!?"

Christian raised his head in confusion at the strange turn of conversation. He would have opened his mouth to question further but now that Chip had finally said what was on his mind there was no turning back.

"You're the only father I've ever known and if you leave, I have no one…" Chip's voice broke in such a painful way that Christian felt his knee jerk before he stopped himself from taking another step further.

"And don't lie to me and tell me that you're standing right here because you could have died out there in those woods! I _thought_ you were dead! What would I have done? Where would I go? I don't have a father and my mothers dead!"

Chips voice cracked violently and his bottom lip quivered which had nothing to do with the chill that had set into their damp skin. Christian felt his heart wrench out of place wondering what he could do to make this better.

"She's dead and I didn't even get to say good-bye."

Christian swallowed the growing lump in his throat and watched as Chip's face crumpled in his grief over his lost mother.

"I am so sorry Chip. I would change that if I could. I would give you back your mother, your father. I would make it so that you could have known him if--"

Chip threw his head up in aggravation. " I don't care! I don't care about him!"

Christian paused in confusion and shook his head trying to keep up with the boy in front of him. His thought process wasn't making any sense.

"I don't understand." he finally said giving Chip enough of a look to indicate that this wasn't a good thing. To Christian's utter horror Chip's eyes filled with tears and putting his hands over his face the boy began to weep. Nothing moved but Chip's shoulders for several moments before he raised his red face up and looked at Christian pleadingly.

"I've done my best Christian! I did what you asked me to do! I've always done what you asked me to do!"

Christian gripped his crutches hard with his fists wishing this whole conversation would begin to make some sense. Perhaps Chip was finally at his breaking point and Christian had not even noticed it until now.

"And I'm glad for it Chip! I thank you…"

"But it wasn't enough, damn it! Look at you! You look like you fell off a cliff, got trampled by a horse, something! I can't ever make things right! Not with my mother, not with you! My best isn't enough…"

It finally dawned on Christian what could be happening. Feelings that Christian plagued himself with every day were easy to spot in Chip. The boy had clearly been bottling his emotions up like vintage champagne and now Christian had shaken the bottle until the whole thing burst. Unintentionally of course, but it was all the same either way.

"Chip..." Christian murmured softly beginning to see plainly what was in front of him.

"I'm not going back to England!" Chip called out abruptly at the look of pity that had crossed Christian's face. Chip knew that he was being weak and he wasn't going to be pitied for it. He already loathed himself at the moment anyways.

"What?" Christian asked a little flustered by this.

Chip shook his head roughly. "I'm not going back! I hate it there. All I've done is muck everything up and I'm not going to continue wasting your time and money."

Christian also shook his head in frustration and was growing increasingly weary of this whole mess. He was tired of standing out in this field arguing with Chip when they couldn't seem to come to some agreement.

"Christoph Potts, you are not to dictate to me what has already been decided for you."

Chip lowered his head, hair still wet and dripping. He ran a hand along his opposite arm and shivered a little from the wind that had picked up. The look on Chip's face was heartbreaking and Christian immediately regretted his last words wondering how this was going to end. As of yet, he couldn't determine what was the best course of action he should take and in truth he wouldn't know until Chip gave him some clue as to what he wanted. Shifting his weight again onto his toes, he leaned forward so that Chip would look him directly in the eye.

"I am listening. Talk to me."

Chip again glared at Christian through his tears wanting to force Christian to shout at him for being so inadequate but just couldn't bring himself to do it. Finally Chip turned his body away as if to shut his master out. He felt his voice break harshly with words he hadn't meant to say spilling out all over himself with no way of pulling them back in again.

"I miss her… I miss her so much and you are the only one who understands that. I cannot do this by myself, Christian and I'm sorry I've failed you so miserably. But…. I want to go home... I just want to go home!"

The last word was spoken with so much emotion that it was almost inaudible. Christian mouthed it before seeing himself in this shaken young man.

"I don't blame you if all you see when you look at me is a servant. Kings shouldn't care that much about servants and I understand that. But Christian… I care about you. I need you! You are the only family I have."

Christian didn't argue with Chip about the fact that most of Chip's multiple brothers and sisters still lived at the castle. Nor did he point out that this conversation in its entirety had all seemed rather random to him. Placing his hands on the rungs of his crutches he took several noisy steps towards Chip. While the boy had managed to pull his shirt on as he had been walking, Christian still had his own draped across his shoulder. It slid off soundlessly and when he didn't bother to stop and retrieve it, Sophia picked it up wordlessly and held it so that it would not get dirtied while her father was preoccupied.

Chip had his eyes downcast as tears streamed silently over his cheeks. He had not cried like this in a very long time and wished that he had chosen a more private time to have such a breakdown. He hated what Christian must think of him.

Pushing the points of his crutches into the soft dirt Christian planted his good foot firmly down and faced Chip with authority only he could muster at a time like this.

"Hey," he said gruffly, hoping he wasn't taking the wrong stance with this. "Now you look at me boy."

Christian took Chip's face in his hands and wrapped his long fingers around the top of Chip's neck. Chip flicked his eyes up towards Christian's face and then let them fall back down to the ground. Christian took this as an indication that he was listening and continued.

"I don't ever want to hear you say that you've failed me again. Me or anyone else. Do you understand?" His tone was deep and final and spoke of absolutely no contradictions.

Chip nodded solemnly. "Yes sir." He mumbled.

"Your mother loved you with her very last breath and I know for a fact that she is proud of you." His voice was harsh, but only to keep the emotion out. Two men blubbering in a field was just sad and Christian knew it.

"Nothing that has happened was your fault and you have done a spectacular job in taking care of everything. You have proved to me that you have become a real man and I could not be more proud. From now on you let me take the lead, all right? Don't worry anymore; I'm going to take care of you. We'll work something out with England; we'll work things out with everything. Alright, Chip?"

Chip nodded his head and several fat tears streaked down his cheeks as Chip tried to control a soft sob deep in his throat. Christian raised Chip's face with his hands so that the boy was forced to look the older man in the eye. Smoothing the tears away roughly with his thumbs Christian gave Chip a stern look.

"Alright, now. Buck up. No more of this. If the women-folk see you like this we won't get out of here for weeks." A touch of humor graced Christian's words but Chip was so grateful for his master's firmness. It wasn't pity or womanly sympathy and Chip knew that it was an act of compassion that allowed Christian to see through Chip's frailties.

Chip sniffed and then nodded. "Yes, your highness." He said softly in reply and ran his sleeve under his nose. Christian gave Chip a ghost of a smile and then slapped the boys cheek softly. Releasing his face he turned his body to face Sophia who still held his clean, white shirt. Taking a step in her direction he stopped and looked back at Chip for just a moment.

"And by the way, you are dead wrong about how much I care about you." Christian paused looking at his daughter who had that strange pained look on her face women get when they read a sad book.

"You have always been _more_ then a son to me."

Without another word Christian reached a hand out and Sophia handed his shirt over. She felt like her heart might burst at the exchange she had witnessed and wondered when it would be her turn for such tenderness from her father. He smiled at her softly and then began to walk back towards the farmhouse. Chip followed a few paces behind, as was custom for a servant. For a moment Sophia felt bewilderment at this. Hadn't her father just referred to Chip as his son? But as they neared the door to Olive and Sebastian's

home and Christian paused to finish dressing himself while Chip went ahead to hold the door for his king, Sophia realized something. She realized that at least for this moment Christian was still considering Chip's feelings. Chip had just showed a great deal of emotion; more then he would under any other circumstances. Instead of treating him like he had done such, Christian was allowing Chip to play his station and be the servant. This would allow the boy to feel needed without drawing attention to him from Sebastian's family.

She watched her father with renewed awe at his depth and understanding of human emotion and wondered how she could have ever mistaken his intelligence for arrogance.

He took his time getting his balance and Chip reached out a hand to steady Christian while still keeping a hand on the door. Sophia had rarely been in her father's presence in her entire life when he was without shirt. Usually it was only seeing him across a distance in the rose garden or out in the fields. It wasn't proper for a lady of her position to see her father or any other man without full attire. So for the first time in her life Sophia got a very clear view of her father's back. What she had perhaps missed, or had never taken the time to notice was that covering every inch of the skin on his back were long white scars. Almost invisible, they would have to been made many years ago. As it was, it would still have taken a heavy whip, perhaps one with barbs to create the long strips of scar tissue that ran from his shoulders to the small of his back.

In the next moment his shirt covered his scarred skin once again from sight and he tucked the bottom of it into his trousers neatly. Then turning in her direction, having no idea of the realization she had just made, patted her gently on the shoulder and then made his way back into the kitchen for a hearty lunch.


	33. Campfire Tales

_**Authors Note:**__ Okay so I had to really consider this chapter and how I was to post it because it's actually in conjunction with another one that should come right after it. But I decided after allot of consideration that I really should just post it. After reading it through a little I realized that it had it's own worth in a way. It has a sweetness that brings family to the table and some very tender explanations that I tried to jazz up a little so that it would actually feel like a dad sitting around a campfire telling old war stories. I sure hope this isn't turning out to be boring for y'all. I have no intention of it turning out like the freakin' seventh book of Harry Potter where all they do is sit around in their tent arguing but I also want there to be reality. The most important part of Beauty and the Beast is of course the spell. But that part wouldn't be very important for very long is life hadn't happened before the spell and if life didn't go on after the spell. Perhaps that's why I'm writing this freakin' novel._

_**P.S. As you may know, I have totally re-written "To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part V" and I really need everyone to reread it because the changes are going to come up in the story later. A nice review on both things I've posted today wouldn't hurt either. I've really tried to make this good. Someone told me I should just quite and stick this whole thing in the recycle bin because I committed literary suicide when I did the "To Sleep Perchance to Dream" section. But I have faith in all you people. Thanks for reading.**_

**The song I tacked onto this chapter was "The Story" By Brandi Carlile.** _(I love this song so much I'm using it as inspiration for two different chapters)_

All of these lines across my face  
Tell you the story of who I am  
So many stories of where I've been  
And how I got to where I am  
But these stories don't mean anything  
When you've got no one to tell them to  
It's true...I was made for you

_Oh because even when I was flat broke  
You made me feel like a million bucks  
You do and I was made for you_

Chapter Thirty-Three: Campfire Tales

The best thing that Olive and Sebastian did for the three travelers was to give them their traveling cart. It was all Christian could do to try and convince them not to part with their much-needed cart but there was nothing to be done once the pair had made up their minds. So two of the horses were hitched to the front and the other was left as a trade.

They filled the bed of the wagon with a straw tic and several warm blankets and for a good portion of the rest of their journey Chip and Sophia sat at the head of the wagon while Christian rested on the fairly well padded back. This cut the pain of his leg in half and he slept so much better. They were able to cover the wagon over at night and sleep inside it all together, though it proved to be a rather tight fit.

Another day of travel passed them by but far more pleasant now that they were loaded down with a fresh supply of food and clean clothing, courtesy of Olive. Christian vowed he would come back here and repay this family handsomely. And even though he knew there would be refusal, he intended to offer Sebastian another job at Rose Castle, should he want it.

The night following their adventure at the farmhouse they made camp just inside the first line of trees they had been traveling along. The rain was coming periodically in drizzles and occasionally in a great pour. It left the air chilly and wet and caused all the game in the forest to be much more hesitant to leave their hiding places. Chip was having a devil of a time catching anything to roast over their well-built fire.

After the third trap failed to catch them so much as a squirrel, Christian finally decided that Chip had given his best shot and intervened.

Sophia watched with bewilderment as Christian sat himself down at the base of a tree next to a bush that Chip had been certain he had seen a large rabbit lurking. Chip sat fairly close his hand on the string connected to the trap they had set up only inches away from Christian's outstretched hand. After what felt like an hour passing by, she watched as her father made some sort of soft clicking noise with his tongue. This went on for a while and Sophia was beginning to think that both men were grasping at straws. It was just as she was about to complain that her legs were cramping she heard a rustle. The fattest floppy eared rabbit she had ever seen came hopping out of the bush. He looked around himself and Christian smiled a sad little smile as he clicked his tongue again and the rabbit continued to creep closer and closer to her father's outstretched fingers. When the rabbit was almost on top of Christian's hand it paused to sniff the air and that was when Chip pulled the string and the rabbit was caught inside the trap.

Sophia jumped up and clapped her hands several times as the rabbit pushed against the trap, hoping to free itself. Though she had been hawking several times and had shot her share of rabbits with her bow and arrow she still closed her eyes as the rabbit screamed shrilly before Chip snapped its neck. The creature went still and Chip carried it by the ears over to the fire to begin skinning it.

"I swear Christian, you must be able to speak to these dumb animals. I cannot for the life of me figure out how else you did that."

Christian leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist. "Don't be so certain that I don't."

Chip smiled up at Christian over his bloody work. "And what did you say to this poor bloke? 'Come little rabbit! Hop to your death and be my supper!'"

Christian chuckled and shook his head. "Not in so many words."

Sophia shook her head but did not venture forth her own questions about the matter. Things seemed to be going smoothly and she wanted to keep it that way for just a little longer. She wasn't quite ready to ruin the moment.

Over the space of the last day and half neither of the men had mentioned the incident in the field. To them it was as if it had not happened at all and though Chip was very somber at first he seemed to come out of his melancholy and was cheery whenever Christian donned him with conversation. In fact the two of them seemed to bond even closer then before and if Sophia had felt left out then, well, it was only getting worse as the evening went on.

Both laughed heartily at Chip's stories of living in England over their Rabbit stew and continued to build up the fire long past sunset and into twilight when all would have normally gone to sleep.

"So tell me," Christian said with a rueful smile "What else did the English-heathens teach you in that God-Forsaken land? Heaven knows if I would have done anything about it if I knew."

Chip laughed out loud and took a long swig out of his water pouch. "Well," he said scratching his chin methodically. "I can… spit six feet with great accuracy."

The boy's eyes twinkled at this as he continued. "I can curse like a drunken sailor, and I can scream insults at Englishmen, Spaniards, and Italians in their own languages. Though not very well."

Both men burst into laughter at the foul laundry list of talents Chip had picked up while he was away.

"All skills your father would have been very proud to hear of you!"

Chip smiled broadly at the mention of his father, knowing Christian was making an effort to bring the man into Chip's life. "And what about you?"

Christian gave Chip a wicked grin. "Oh, I will be incorporating you as my new tutor. I most definitely need to learn how to swear like a drunken sailor." He paused thinking about this for a moment. "Just not around Belle." He tacked on for good measure.

Chip nodded and everyone went silent for a while as the fire crackled and danced. After a few moments Christian made a movement to reach for his water pouch and then sucked in air through his gritted teeth having leaned too hard onto his sore ribcage. Lying back onto the pack nestled against his back he grunted for a moment and then breathed deeply. Chip leaned over and handed Christian the water pouch, eyes full of sympathy.

"Are you alright?"

Christian nodded his head and smiled, ignoring the throb in his stomach muscles. Chip didn't buy it and jumping to his feet, went to the wagon and retrieved their camping gear. Taking the blankets and the straw tick with him he placed several blankets behind Christian and then used the tick as a prop for his broken leg. It was such a tender moment and though it was clearly hard for Christian to submit himself for coddling he allowed it. He allowed it because Chip needed him to allow it and that was far more important then his dignity.

"There. Are you comfortable?" Chip asked as he rose to his feet again.

Christian looked up at him feeling something like a pampered princess. He nodded amiably and smiled at his Chip. "Yes, thank you." Chip nodded in reply and resumed his spot across from Christian, next to Sophia.

It was becoming painfully obvious to Christian what was going on between Chip and Sophia. Though neither would ever have the bravery to admit it they couldn't seem to keep their eyes off one another when they thought the other wasn't looking. She would stare at him for handfuls of minutes at a time before he would turn his gaze towards her. In which, she would expertly pretend she had been staring at the trees or her horse's head. He in turn would watch her as she bustled around the camps they made, collecting wood or water. Christian would watch as Chip would get this deep look of longing on his face as if his insides were burning him up and he just couldn't be bothered enough by it. They seemed to gravitate towards one another on occasion and Chip took great pains to make Sophia comfortable and happy. This would be questionable behavior at best for a servant if it wasn't for the fact that Sophia seemed to usually find everything Chip said either intensely meaningful our amazingly funny. Christian wasn't entirely sure what to do with this situation and wondered if it was already at a complicated enough stage for him to have to consider options.

Resting his hands on the ground next to him, Chip watched as Christian adjusted his position so as to see the pair across the fire better. He bit his lip and then nudged a rock with his toes so that it was closer to the other rocks that circled the flames.

"You know, Christian, I wish I wasn't happy that this spell of yours was so poorly put together."

Christian raised an eyebrow in Chip's direction. "What do you mean?"

Chip looked a little ashamed at his statement. "Well I just…. I'm surprised and relieved that… that the rest of us weren't affected by it. I'm sorry I feel that way."

Chip looked down and stared at the fire as if it was entrancing him.

Christian smiled a little ruefully and shook his head. "Don't worry about it Chip. I think once was enough for you."

Chip narrowed his eyes in consternation. "Once was enough for _you_."

Christian shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps."

There was a pause and then Chip looked at Christian. "I wonder why it didn't…. why you weren't…healed. I suppose that's what I'm trying to say."

Christian looked about himself thinking about the question. This actually had the effect of putting his face on profile and it caused his bruises to look even more prominent then they already were. Finally he shook his head.

"I don't know, Chip. I suppose it has something to do with who cast the spell in the first place. If the Enchantress didn't do it then whoever did must have been some rank amateur. It would explain why things were left half-done all the way down to who was cursed and who wasn't."

Still Chip shook his head. "I just can't figure out why she didn't… I dunno… heal you. It would have been the courteous thing to do."

Christian grimaced a little. "I don't know if she can. I actually have no idea who or what she is. Let alone why she does what she does and believe me I've tried to find that out. It's as if she doesn't exist."

Chip shook his head, thinking hard. "But that isn't right. You were just fine after Belle broke the spell. You were _dead_, Christian, and when the spell was broken you jumped up off the ground as if nothing had happened."

Christian grunted. "Well I wouldn't say I was _just_ fine. As I recall I was sore as the devil for weeks after that. It's not exactly easy for ones body to completely rearrange itself. I'm not sure mine is going to be able to handle it if this happens again." He paused for a second. "But you are right. By all accounts a knife through your side is death no matter how much fur he had to cut through."

Sophia gave her father a wide-eyed look of fear. "I forgot that you were stabbed…." She said weakly and looked down at her hands.

Christian narrowed his gaze on her. "How did you know about that in the first place?" He asked firmly.

She blinked a couple of times. "Armand and Lamont showed me the strange corridor with the stained glass windows. I did not know that corridor even existed. That's how I found out about the spell before the castle was attacked."

Christian's lips were set into a line as he regarded Sophia. "Yes, I know you weren't aware of the corridor. I… wouldn't have chosen for you to find out that way."

Sophia blinked several times more. _'You wouldn't have chosen for me to find out at all.' _ She thought bitterly but for the first time in her young life she chose to hold her tongue. It wasn't worth causing a fight. By all accounts she was beginning to realize that her father actually might have good reasons why he kept his past so shadowed from her.

Finally she opened her mouth but what tumbled out wasn't what she had meant to say. It is a well known fact that when you hold in questions without answers for too long they will eventually ask for themselves with or without your permission.

"Why were you stabbed?" she asked abruptly.

Christian blinked in almost the exact same manner his daughter had. "I… was in his way." He finally answered evenly.

"Whose?"

Christian squinted in concentration. "The man… the man from the village…" he closed his eyes trying to recall the memory. "Bugger! I don't remember the fool's name! Anyways, there was a man who lived in the village and sought your mother's affections. When she left the castle to care for your Grandfather Maurice this…_gentleman_ once again tried to…. persuade her to him but well…. Your mother doesn't respond well to ultimatums or threats." Christian smiled at the thought of her. "So the man showed the villagers the castle and me and they all came to kill me."

Sophia scrunched her nose up in confusion. "How? How could he have shown the other villagers?"

"When I was cursed the Enchantress gave me one mercy. It was a magic mirror that would show me anything I wished to see. When Belle left the castle and I believed she would never return I gave her the mirror so that she would be able to look back and remember if she ever had the desire to do so. She….. she… underestimated the panic that would ensue when presented with an image… such as myself."

For the first time Sophia heard something strange in her father's voice. It was a deep sorrow born of years and years of grief due to this spell. There was a sadness that would never fully leave his heart over being cursed. A sadness that could not be broken by time. Sophia remembered the special mirror in the shack that Wilhelm had used to show her Belle. It seemed like a thousand lifetimes ago and she wished now that she had smashed that mirror and all its lies.

There didn't seem to be much more to elaborate on the subject. They all seemed to know what the other was thinking but furtherance through the tangled webs of the past was a frightening prospect. It was unsure as to who was going to be the proprietor of breaking the fragile peace that came with just not talking about it.

Sophia squirmed, bulging with curiosity, questions, and emotions that could not be explained without her father's help. She finally averted her gaze over to Chip, hoping to tread on safer ground since it was something he had brought up on his own.

"You said something I don't understand."

Chip looked at her pleasantly. "What?"

"You said you were happy that…. the spell hadn't affected you. What did you mean by that?"

Chip swallowed and then stabbed the fire with a stick as if to appear nonchalant.

"Oh… you know… the spell did all sorts of things…." He stopped at that as if that was all the answer she needed.

Christian pursed his lips in amusement as his daughter looked at him for some sort of explanation.

"What sorts of things, father?"

Christian sat up straighter so that Sophia could see his face over the fire. "Well, the spell was designed to encompass almost everything. You remember how the castle looked, right?" Sophia nodded quickly and watched him with rapt attention. "It was a reflection of ugliness. But the spell really didn't stop there. The forest was enchanted, the castle was moved from it's location, even the entire countryside seemed to be touched by the spell, if not enchanted by it. No one seemed to really notice I was gone or that one moment Rose Castle was there and the next it wasn't."

Christian paused for a moment and then continued. "Since the whole castle was… cursed, it is unfortunate to say that…" He flicked his eyes towards Chip who was looking at Christian and shaking his head vigorously, eyes wide. Christian smiled sardonically at the boy and then continued. "Everyone who lived in the castle with me was also cursed."

Sophia cocked her head to the side, considering this. "How were they cursed?"

Christian thought for a moment. "They were transformed." He said matter- of-factly while Chip glared at him over Sophia's head. She turned to face Chip with an expression of extreme curiosity.

"What does that mean? Were you turned into a… beast as well?"

Chip swallowed and then shook his head. "No, not exactly."

Sophia waited for him to answer her question. Chip looked about himself and then shook his head a little too enthusiastically. "Oh, really it was such a long time ago I don't think it really matters."

Christian sighed heavily. "Oh Chip, just come out with it. It's not that bad!"

"That's easy for you to say!" the boy retorted before thinking. When Christian's eyes narrowed meaningfully Chip retracted. "Alright, maybe not _easy_ for you, but…."

Sophia was growing impatient with Chip's refusal to answer her question. "What were you turned into?"

Chip gave Christian a pained expression, pleading to him for support. Christian shook his head with a laugh. "Oh no, you'll garner no aid from me. If I have to present all my well kept secrets to share then you're going right down with me."

Chip heaved a pitiful sigh and then purposefully didn't look in Sophia's direction. Putting a hand to his mouth he muffled his answer beyond comprehension.

"I was a _mumnumns_.."

Sophia looked at him impatiently. "What was that?"

"I was a--" Whereupon Chip gave a very fake sounding cough and then pretended he had answered her question. Christian closed his eyes, half in amusement, half in impatience.

Sophia shook her head, not even beginning to let Chip off the hook. "Sorry, still didn't catch that.

Chip sighed again dramatically. "I was a TEACUP! Alright?!"

There was just enough of a startled pause to make things awkward and then Sophia did what Chip had hoped she wouldn't. She began to laugh, hard.

"A teacup? You were turned into a teacup?"

Chip stiffened in embarrassment. "It's not that funny." He said indignantly.

Christian tried not to grin too widely as Chip turned to him like a child would to his parent after being teased by his sibling. Christian just shrugged and listened to Sophia as she put a hand to her cheek.

"But really, how is that possible?" She said still smiling. "You told me that you remember the castle during the spell. How can you remember anything if you were a…teacup? Was everyone a teacup?"

Chip shook his head wishing the subject would change. "No everyone was turned into something different. Sort of a direct reflection of their personalities I think."

Christian nodded his head, finally deciding to come to Chip's rescue. "You see Sophia, I was meant to be entirely alone, but well… I couldn't _be_ entirely alone. I think perhaps it was a mercy because I wasn't very good at taking care of myself. And it's horrible but all the people I lived with had to take part in my punishment. Making them objects was keeping them with me, while making sure that no humanity could touch my life… ever."

A somber moon had once again decided on the group. Perhaps it was the way Christian described the situation. Something that could seem so comical and ironic had once again turned into a tragedy. Sophia nodded and jumped on the next thing she thought of, hoping that it wouldn't remind her father of his sadness.

"How were they still with you though? It doesn't really seem to make sense."

Christian shrugged again and then thought about if for a moment. "It was rather strange, actually. They could move around and talk to me and do all the things that people do but they weren't actual people. They didn't need to eat and every evening they would just sort of… go dormant. It was as if they didn't exist at all and you could just rattle them around and there wasn't anything there."

Chip looked offended at Christian's description of his existence during the spell. "We were sleeping!" He said with annoyance. "And I suppose you know something of rattling us around while we were sleeping from personal experience?"

Christian gave his slyest smile. "Beasts don't sleep at night, silly boy. I had to do something to occupy my time."

Chip glared at Christian, feeling a little put out by this revelation. It was one thing to joke about all these things with his brothers who had endured the curse with him. It was entirely another to discuss the intricate details with the girl he was… well he didn't want to think about what she was to him. He didn't want to think about her at all.

Sophia cocked her head to the side. "So, you say that you all turned into different things… What sorts of things?"

Christian smiled at her curiosity. It reminded him of Belle. "All sorts of things." He answered her when Chip did not.

"And it was meant to reflect their personalities? Hmmmm…" She thought to herself. Then her eyes brightened. "Don't tell me, let me guess. Andre has been at the castle for a long time. He must have been part of the spell." She murmured to herself.

Christian nodded at her musings. "He was."

"Hmmm…" she said again. "And he is the master horse-man… so he must have turned into…. What? A horse shoe?"

She asked looking from her father, then to Chip, then back to her father.

"Not quite." Christian answered genially. "He was a horse brush. It served more purposes, since… the horses all became living paintings on the walls of the stables. There was no need for horse-shoes. Or… horse brushes either but we were able to use him to shine shoes."

Sophia's eyes widened in surprise and it caused her father to chuckle at her startled look. "Don't worry. All the horses came right back, safe and sound after the spell was broken. They just moved around from painting to painting on the walls. It didn't hurt them."

Sophia seemed appeased by this and then decided to continue on. "Alright. Well let's see. Dinsmore is the captain of the guard. He must have been a sword or something."

"Closer" Christian answered. "Everyone in the guard was luckier then most. They were suits of armor. Living suits of armor. I could always hear the bloody buggers wandering around during the day when I was trying to sleep. They would clank something awful. And oh, they used the scare the living daylights out of your mother when she first came to the castle. I think it was the weapons they carried around that frightened her the most. I had to tell them not to constantly station themselves outside her door. Can you imagine waking up to the entire guard standing outside your door? Only they are all empty suits of armor who echoed through themselves whenever they talked?"

Both Christian and Sophia laughed happily at this description of the castle during the spell. Even Chip was finding it hard not to see things humorously when Christian was talking about them in such a way. It was so different from how he normally talked that it made things that much funnier.

"Why would they do that?" She asked after a moment of laughter.

Christian shrugged. "She was a novelty. They had all given up hope years and years before of anyone coming to…. rescue us. So when she showed up, I think they wanted to make sure she wasn't some dream they were having."

Chip nodded his head. "There was a hole in the wall where the mice could get into her room and I used to sneak in and lay on her pillow at night. I wanted to make sure she didn't disappear."

Chip looked up abruptly at Christian wondering if he would see surprise or even anger on the older man's face at this. Instead all he saw was that knowing smile Christian sometimes gave people when they shared a secret. Chip realized that Belle must have told her husband about her and Chip's secret meetings a long time ago. And in some strange way it made Chip love Christian even more. As if his knowing about Chip and Belle's special relationship made him special too.

Sophia was watching Chip with rapt attention again. He turned his head in her direction and they stared unabashedly at one another. A slow smile spread across Chip's face as he realized that this secret sharing this wasn't all that bad if Sophia would only look at him like that always. It was Christian's gruff throat clearing that called them out of their moment. Sophia looked away, tucking a twist of hair behind her ears.

"Ummm…" she said tracing her thoughts back to the conversation. "So, if you were a teacup… then… your mother must have been the teapot?"

Chip nodded his head laughing. "Very good. We were actually a whole set. My brothers and sisters and my mother and me."

Sophia laughed at the change in Chip's voice from embarrassed to proud at the shared cursing with his family. She tapped her chin with her index finger.

"And Cogsworth must have been something tightly wound. Something all twisted up. A corkscrew perhaps? No, that doesn't seem to fit him all that well. He's very punctual and is always following a set schedule…" She thought for a moment. "Perhaps a pocket-watch?"

"Mantel Clock." Chip answered. They laughed at the mental image of Cogsworth.

"He even had a wind-up key on his back. That was my favorite part." Christian said, a smile in his voice. To which all three burst out laughing. It wasn't until Sophia was clutching her stomach with mirth that she finally smiled widely

"Lumiere was a candle stick!"

Chip laughed a little more. "Close enough!"

It was a while before all three settled down. It was like being washed clean for how good it felt when all three laughed. They basked in it and it wasn't for a while that Sophia finally steeled herself to ask another question. Every single time she ventured to unknown territory with her father she ran the risk of breaking what little sweetness had come to the three of them through their laughter. She was desperate to keep her father smiling, desperate for him to want her sitting there with the two of them, included and happy. But much deeper, Sophia needed to venture further into the truth.

"I have a question." She asked timidly through the calm silence that had descended. She knew the closer she came to her mark the more danger she was in of spoiling everything.

"What would that be?" Chip answered quickly.

"Well…" Sophia murmured choosing her words wisely. "I guess I am a little confused on how all this magic works."

Christian nodded his head at her comment. "That was intentional." He said, his tone a bit guarded.

Sophia nodded her head in return. "Yes, and I understand that now. But what I don't understand is well…." She looked at her father. "How long has the original spell been broken?"

Christian gave Sophia a curious look. As if he was trying to determine what she was up to. "Seventeen years." He answered firmly. She was calculating something in her head; he could read it on her face like a book.

She nodded her head quickly. "Right, almost as old as I am. And…. how long did the spell last?"

Christian narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. "Ten years."

Again Sophia nodded as if this was exactly as she had thought. "Alright, so I suppose what I'm saying is… well… Chip… you weren't born before the spell was cast…"

She ended her remark as a question and both men stared at her with such curiosity on their faces.

"Clever little thing, aren't you?" Christian murmured to her, a slow smile creeping up his face.

Chip seemed a little disturbed by this. "I wasn't born a teacup, Sophia." He said with annoyance in his voice.

Christian waved Chip off of his argument. "It's alright Chip. An easy misunderstanding." He paused, turning his attention back to Sophia. "I'm not going to claim to be an expert on this, dear. But I think it had something to do with that meddling Enchantress. After the spell was cast we discovered very quickly that things didn't follow any of the same rules as they did before. It wasn't until about five or so years into the spell that everyone began to realize that I was aging. I was changing into adulthood as much as a…beast can. But perhaps because the Enchantress felt sorry for my servants it didn't affect them the same way. They weren't exactly made of materials that could age anyways. Wood, stone, glass. But while I was meant to lose those years, my servants did not. They were the same age before the spell and after it was broken."

Sophia looked at her father with a mixture of understanding and curiosity. She wasn't sure if she could continue to ask her questions and still keep things light. She didn't like what her father had just said though. He had aged and lost years? What did that mean?

"Wait a moment," She began, turning her head to the side. "How old were you? How old were you originally."

Christian looked at his daughter solemnly knowing he would have to answer this question which was one of the many he had hoped to keep locked away. Perhaps because the answers still affected him and if they affected him, well, he wouldn't be able to stop them from affecting her.

"Twelve." He finally answered with more then a little finality to the word.

Sophia blinked in astonishment. Her mouth went a little dry at the thought. Her mind flew to the year she had turned twelve. It really wasn't that long ago, was it? What was she like when she was twelve? She couldn't remember, but she could honestly say she had never known a twelve-year old who deserved to be cursed by an Enchantress. Even her fairy stories didn't go that far…most of the time.

"Twelve?" She whispered feeling her eyes prickle at the memory of the stained glass windows and realizing that they had not had enough detail to show her exactly how old her father had been.

Christian felt his eyes tighten in anxiety over his daughter's reaction. He didn't like it and he immediately switched the topic away from himself.

"It's all rather humorous really. The timelines were completely thrown off by the spell."

Chip bit his lip at the sudden curiosity that plagued Sophia's every question. So many things that _he_ didn't even know were boiling on the surface, waiting to spill over. Chip knew that Christian, despite his previous resolves and orders he had given to keep his past safely in check, was spilling out secrets like a leaky bucket. Without thinking he jumped into the conversation again, hoping that it would end soon.

"That is an understatement. I'm still not sure we haven't all simply gone mad. It's a more reasonable explanation."

Sophia looked at Chip in bewilderment. She still had not recovered from the image of her twelve-year-old father being turned into that frightening beast he had been before. She wasn't sure if she would ever recover from it.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice tight.

Christian looked down at the fire for a moment, knowing he was fooling himself if he thought that she would even think of dropping what he had just told her.

"Well…." He began, reiterating that same humor he had felt before. "Take Chip for example. In reality… his and my own birth dates fall only about… six or seven years apart. If things had gone on the way they were, he and I would have probably been more like brothers, what with the way his mother doted over me like a wounded pigeon. But since the spell added ten years over that seven or so, I was left in a very different position."

Chip glanced up at Christian's face and though he tried to mask it, his eyes shown with a little more then pride. "I like you better this way. I already have too many brothers."

Christian gave him a small smile while Sophia blinked in astonishment and held her mouth open in a very un-princess like way. After a moment she found her voice again.

"That is too strange for words."

Both Christian and Chip laughed at her look of surprise.

"Oh, I think the strangest was Babette." Christian chuckled at her.

"Why?"

Chip elected to answer her this time. "Well, you see Babette was what? Not even seventeen when the spell first came upon us but because she didn't age and Christian did when it was broken…. Well he surpassed her by several years."

Christian threw his head back and laughed. "I was the younger-older brother she never had."

Despite how disturbed she was by this, even Sophia threw her laughter in with other two. _'Keep the laughter here!'_ she ordered herself. '_Don't ruin this!'_

"Poor girl!" Chip added on to their increased chuckles.

Christian waved his hand and snorted. "Oh, she was alright. She had Belle to tell her dirty secrets to. That made up for it."

Chip raised one eyebrow and did not miss the change in Christian's tone when he said the name of Belle.

Chip wrung his hands for a moment and then finally looked at Christian, that same expression on his face he had when asking about his father.

"What was it like?"

Christian turned his ocean-colored eyes in Chip's direction.

"What?"

"Falling in love with her."

Sophia sucked in her breath and looked at her father, vulnerability playing on her features.

Christian raised his eyebrows and turned his head to the side. "What a question." He murmured, feeling as if he should be more careful about exposing his soft spots.

The silence stretched on so long that Chip gave Christian a pleading look that would have shamed a puppy.

Finally Christian inhaled a long breath. "To be in love with Belle…. Is like you've lived your whole life without air. Like you've never known breath and then when she walks in the room you feel air for the first time and you realize that without her you're not really alive."

The crackling fire played like music to Christian's description and the two young people across from him didn't dare speak for fear he wouldn't continue. He rubbed his arm and sighed. "Oh, it's a million little things all rolled into one. The way your arms hurt when she's not in them. The way you wake up at night and you just have to run down the corridor and wake her up to tell her about the dream you had because if she knows then whatever it is will last forever. She is your forever. She's my forever. My everything."

He swallowed hard, demanding control over himself. What a fool he felt he was. Years of self-mastery were coming to a crashing heap and he was just too weak to stop them. Words he never dared to say were being displayed for two very young people who didn't know nearly as much about him as they assumed.

"I have lived enough experiences for two lifetimes and to sit here now, I know that nothing could make me stop loving her. Nothing. I cannot change what has happened but I also cannot change how I love her. It's not a feeling anymore. It's what I am. Who I am. She rescued me. Walked into hell barefoot and saved someone not worth saving. That's worth everything to me. That's who she is."

Both Sophia and Chip had tears in their eyes as Christian slowly got to his feet. He used his crutches to keep his balance and he adjusted his shirt to try and look a little more dignified.

"You know, dear," He said turned to Sophia. "You were right about almost everything you said about me that night. All but one thing."

Sophia's lip trembled uncontrollably as both knew what he was talking about. Christian turned his body away from their campfire.

Chip jumped to his feet, feeling like he had just caused the whole evening to be ruined with his stupid question. 

"Christian! I'm sorry, don't go!"

Christian turned himself about and shook his head, a sad smile across his thin lips. "It's alright, Chip. It wasn't anything you said. I just need to use the loo."

Not a soul believed his lie and Christian sadly made his way into the woods. Drinking his self-pity like a tankard of ale. It was soothing enough for his bitter heartbreak.


	34. The Nightmare

**Authors Note:** _Out of all the chapters I have written thus far this is the very first one that I had have written that I had not intended to write. For the most part every chapter and plot line in this story has been carefully planned out, sometimes for years. This one popped into my head in the middle of the last chapter and refused to leave. Perhaps it's finals week and I'm in the bitter gall of hell and that's why I wrote this. But actually after skimming previous chapters I realized that it actually fits. In a depressing…sad sort of way. Unlike the "To Sleep Perchance To Dream" series this one is actually what the title suggest. Just a nightmare. It's Christian's worst fears, I'm sure we've all had one just like it. It is also very much in conjunction with previous chapters. Christian is a sad little boy, isn't he? _

_That should clear everything up. It's actually going to make a great segway into the next chapter, which is full of revelation. But it's scary. If you are of a fragile mind then don't read this chapter. You might not like it and then the first review I'll have gotten in ages will be one of hate and contempt. I'll take it of course but still……_

_Please review. If you're reading this and you just decide not to review…that's sad… And when that is sad, I am sad, and when I am sad the story just stays sad, which makes you sad and then we're all sad. No Bueno!_

_P.S. I put lines to separate the dream portion from the parts when Christian is awake. It's not really a split scene, it's a split reality.  
_

**Chapter Thirty-Four: The Nightmare**

* * *

Christian had no intention of returning to the camp. He wanted to be alone and that suited him. Before Belle he had spent most of his life in solitude. Really, he was used to sitting alone brooding. It was a skill he was accustomed to and was good at it. He found a spot amidst the trees and lowered himself into the tall grass. It smelled sweet to his sensitive nose and he took the time to identify the different odors left behind from the various animals that had crossed through these woods during the day. He leaned himself up against a tree and stared at the sky, ignoring the wet as it soaked into his trousers and chilled his body.

For the first time in this whole experience he stopped and really thought about the events that had led him to this point. He carefully went over every part and mentally boxed them up. He put them all in their special places in his mind and organized them according to importance.

He was vaguely aware in the back of his mind that this entire journey had not just taken him halfway across the country but had drug him all across his memories and somewhere into the recesses of time itself. He knew immediately, perhaps because of these old memories, that what his life had been before was not necessarily what it aught to be.

Somewhere, in that train of thought, he knew that something was going to have to change. Things could not keep going the way they had before. He was not the same man anymore.

A deep ache in his heart, reminded him of how much he missed his Belle. Oh, if he had only been smart enough to evade Chip's question then perhaps he would not have had to feel so desperately alone without her. He shivered from the cool night air and rested his head against the trunk of the tree, his chin tilted up, so that he could carefully examine all the twinkling stars as they swirled around over his head.

He breathed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment and began to wonder, idly, what the pair would do if he just never returned to the camp. He quickly banished that thought for two very good reasons. One was that he knew he had to find Belle somehow. He had something so important he needed to tell her that it wasn't even a question of _if_ he found her. He would tell her one way or another. The other reason was that he was very sure that if he disappeared again Chip and Sophia would attempt to find him and would probably get lost in the woods and then who knows what would happen to them.

Unhappily, Christian knew he had more sense then to let that happen.

He had not meant to fall asleep, but just by closing his eyes his body had responded to the much-needed rest it so desperately desired and he had succumbed to sleep without having any way of stopping himself.

Christian knew somewhere in the swirling, exhausted recesses of his mind that he was dreaming. He dreamt often and near most of the time could recognize that it was only a dream he had experienced and not real life. He had endured enough things in his existence that were beyond unreal to know the difference between them and dreams.

But perhaps because he was so tired and so lost in his daughters unasked questions that brought up so many painful memories, he was distracted and could not decipher the lines between what was real and what was not.

* * *

He was standing in the clearing again. The same clearing they had left when he was transformed back into a human.

He could smell every distinct odor that assaulted his nose. Everything was tree-sap and grass. He could feel himself standing and could see all around him but was not able to really wrap his head around what he could possibly be doing back in that place.

Something in his mind changed and he knew the man was standing behind him even before he turned himself around. His smell was ever-present in the back of Christian's mind. It always had a faint odor of tobacco and liquor. Oftentimes, strange perfumes or sweat pervaded this man's clothing and Christian could now smell it like an intoxication that attacked him with ferocity.

He turned himself around and looked at the man standing behind him. In any lifetime Christian could not have looked this man in the eye. A cold shiver ran up his spine and he felt his feet plant firmly into the ground as if paralyzed with fear. The man in front of him smiled slyly and took a step in his direction. He was huge. Taller then Christian could remember and broad, far broader then he should have been. As if he could wrap his arms around a tree and crush it. He was dressed to the hilt and encrusted with jewels, not a single stitch out of place. With a hand on his massive hip, he came to rest standing right in front of Christian. In reality, if Christian had had presence enough to think about this situation, he would have known that this man couldn't be much taller then him. But in this place, the strange man seemed to tower over Christian like a giant with a raised club.

Christian wanted to cower but couldn't seem to move a muscle in his body. He stared up into the man's face and took him in like a drink. The man could have been Christian's mirror. His eyes, so identical were nevertheless full of malice that Christian could only imagine. His full lips turned up into a sneer that showed a perfect line of white teeth. But there was something distinctly and obviously off about the comparison. Christian's jaw was slightly larger then this man's, his nose a little wider. He was not built so broadly, but had a litheness to him that had come from a completely different parentage. Still the comparisons frightened Christian and he would have shrunk away if he had had the capacity to do so.

The man laughed cruelly and his chuckles sent chills up and down Christian's spine. Trying to sound brave he looked at the man in front of him and spoke.

"What are you doing here?" He said; his voice pinched.

Again the man roared with laughter and Christian made as if to take a step back. His arm went up and before he knew it the man had him in a grip that could break bones. His large fingers wrapped themselves around Christian's forearm and he attempted to wiggle it free, but only managed to cause the man to tighten his fingers more around the bare skin.

"Did you think you could get rid of me?" He murmured into Christian's face, his breath stirring the hairs at his temple. "Oh, but foolish boy, you'll never take leave of me. You are mine forever."

Christian felt sick at the smell of alcohol on the man's breath and he tried to turn his face away. Without even a beat the man had his other hand clenched firmly around Christian's jaw and had jerked it back into the direction facing him.

"Where did you think you were going to go? Who do you think would want you?"

Christian swallowed and tried to think at all. Of course the only thing he knew would make any difference was the first thing to come out of his half clenched mouth.

"Belle! Belle wants me!"

The man again laughed and then had his hand around Christian's throat, tightly cutting off his airway.

"Belle doesn't want you! No one wants you! Your own mother couldn't stand the ugly sight of you!"

Christian felt the sting of remembrance at the man's words and he choked on a sob that wouldn't pass through his closed off throat. He felt his heartbeat quicken and wondered if he would pass out into this man's arm. The thought was repulsive and he willed himself to stay conscious.

"Why do you hate me so?" He trembled into the man's face, their lips so close they could have looked like lovers had the grip around Christian's throat not been so obviously choking.

"Because you are nothing! Useless! That bitch finally gave me a son and what do I have to show for it? I useless pile of nothing, worth less then what my horses leave behind them!"

Christian grimaced at the description of himself but did not protest. Somewhere on a very base level he childishly believed that if he stood very still and tried his best to behave that this man would love him. He so desperately wanted this man to love him. Though he would never really understand why.

The man drew even closer and his smile widened like a snake preparing to bite. "But I will make uses for you! I will teach you how to be a real man, never fear."

Christian felt a cold fist clutch his heart and he would have screamed his protests had he had the will to do so.

"Would you like that?" The snake hissed into his ear.

Christian shook his head violently. An emphatic 'No' on his lips but not a sound could be released. The man didn't even falter for a moment. He pressed Christian to his front and ran his large, claw-like hands along his chest and down his torso. Christian's brain screamed at him to make it stop. Why couldn't he make it stop? Why couldn't he fight this man who bound himself so tightly to him? He was strong enough now. He was brave enough and smart enough and still this horrible person had him one hand by the throat, the other groping his body in ways even Belle had not. Christian closed his eyes, his jaw locking involuntarily as a wave of nausea swept over him. He felt extensive pain between his legs and released a soft whimper that did not sound like him. The man grunted in disgust and shoved Christian away from himself hard enough that Christian stumbled and had to put out his arms to try and stay balanced.

The man glared hatred in Christian's direction and spat at his feet to show his disrespect.

"Take off your shirt, boy. It's made of finer materials then you and I don't want your filthy Austrian blood to soil it."

"Yes, sir" Christian answered and automatically removed his fine silk shirt and allowed it to fall to the ground, hating himself for being pathetic. His bare skin didn't seem to feel the air that flowed through the trees and danced across his bare chest. The man held a horse-whip in his hand, which was strangely ironic to Christian since, according to this man, he was less then what horses left behind but just enough to use the same whip.

"I will beat this lesson into you, so help me. Now, grab that fence and don't think about trying to run."

Christian swallowed and turned his body to see a long white fence that had not been there a moment before. He would be obedient to his father so he did not stop to question it. Placing his large hands a small width wider then his shoulders, he gripped hard and spread his legs then locked them to keep from falling. He hung onto the wood for dear life and set his teeth tightly to keep the pain inside while his father's leather whip dug into his bare back. The cracks resounded over and over again, tearing and splitting the skin open. Christian did not call out, he did not cry. He squeezed his eyes shut and ordered himself not to wince as every time the whip went down it caused his body to jolt forward uncomfortably. Finally his deranged father started screaming out abuses at his son.

"Who do you think you are?!!?" He hurled at Christian's back.

In stubbornness, born of pain, Christian screamed back. "I am _**Christian**_!"

"Wrong!" His father hollered back and whipped him several times more. "You are no one! Who do you think loves you!?"

Christian clenched the fence harder and then blared out loud enough for the whole forest to hear. "Belle! Belle loves me! She_ loves_ me!"

Suddenly the whipping stopped and he heard again his father's cruel laugh. It faded quickly like an echo through a large cavern. Christian waited for several moments before he finally sunk to his knees and draped his body over his legs to try and breath through the searing pain.

She was there before he could smell or see her. She stood in the same spot that his father had been standing. Christian lifted his head in astonishment and looked up into her beautiful face. For a moment they regarded each other and then Christian's face broke into a grin of relief. Belle did not return his smile.

"Belle," He murmured. "How did you find me?"

"It doesn't matter." She whispered back to him and her voice seemed far away, coming from some other place but here.

"Why?" Christian asked, bewilderment flooding his features.

"Because, I'm leaving and I'm not coming back."

Pain that far exceeded the whip or his father's abuse came crashing in on Christian.

"_Why_?" He wailed, moving closer to her standing figure.

"You are a beast, Christian. I cannot love a monster."

Christian felt his heart break a hundred times over.

"But I've changed! I changed for you, Belle. I don't want you to go. I need you! Remember? Remember, the spell and the rose and the west wing? I need you."

Belle's expression didn't change which was not like her at all and somewhere in Christian's mind he knew it.

"I want a real man." She said solemnly, her words mirroring his father's taunt against his manhood. Christian felt a sob rise in his throat, it burst out and caused his whole body to quake.

"But I'm trying, Belle. I'm doing my best. Please! You cannot leave me here. Please don't say you've forgotten. I'm so sorry Belle. What can I do?"

While he spoke he had crawled over to his Belle and gripped her blue dress in his arms, pressing it to his face to try and physically force her to stay there with him.

She seemed to waver then, as if the essence that made up her very being was breaking apart. Christian sobbed harder, but he still managed to hold her dress skirts to him as if they held the key to staying alive.

"I promise I will make it up to you. I promise I will help you love me again. I will fix this, I swear it."

* * *

Suddenly Christian felt a jolt and sat upright. For a moment he thought he had gone blind before he realized that his eyes just needed a moment to adjust. The campfire had been put out and the moon had already sunk beneath the skyline. Christian put his hand to his face and felt the cold tears that he had been crying in his sleep. What had awoken him?

He breathed hard twice through his mouth, trying to catch hold of some feeling of reality.

It had been a dream, just a stupid nightmare. To be sure he reached his hand behind himself and felt no cold, crusted blood on his bare back. He had simply dreamt the whole thing. Still it cut him to his core and he sat a long time in the pitch darkness. With no light to guide him back to the camp he was severely grateful for his heightened senses and hoped that he wouldn't meet any stray wolves on the way.

He balled his fists and crossed his arms over his chest to fight the cold and the impending pain that came with his own wayward thoughts. The image of his long-dead father swam in front of his eyes and he wondered how long it had been since he had thought of the man. He had not allowed himself to delve that far into those memories since he was a very young boy and wondered if his sudden relapse had anything to do with the strange dreams he had had before he had awoken in the clearing several days ago. He wondered for just a moment what it would really be like if he was faced with his father again. After all that had happened in the near twenty-eight years since the man had died, Christian wondered what he would say to him. It was a difficult thought to swallow and he pushed it out of his mind.

Far harder to comprehend was the images of Belle. The thought of her harsh words brought tears to his eyes once more and he angrily shoved them back to where they belonged. He refused to allow his dream to be a reality. If anything it reminded him of his resolve to find her. Despite all the times he had dismayed and failed her and feared that one day she would simply be gone like almost everyone else in his life, he persistently believed that she loved him. And as long as she loved him, he had a chance.

Lifting his head to the fading stars above he whispered her name over and over again like a prayer to heaven. "Oh, my love, I promise…I promise."


	35. Revelations

_**Authors Note:** Okay this has been one of those chapters that has actually caused me to lose allot of sleep. I am completely at a fork in the road with it. In fact I almost scrapped it about three times because I'm just not sure if I should post it. I understand that I set up this story so that I could put a chapter like this in here. Every story needs to have some sort of back-story to it. But was this the best version of the back-story I could come up with? I have no idea. I've actually had it finished for a few days but have been in such turmoil over it that I almost wish I could do something else with it. In most fanfics people write, they give the prince this la-de-da history that involves happy perfect parents or sometimes no parents at all and the prince just blossomed into a little weed all on his own. I don't buy it. I'm not of a philosophical nature that puts all the blame on the parent's actions or anything but I thought it was stupid to assume that the prince was just born to be an evil little runt._

_It is a little dreary. My friend/editor told me she would like to slit her wrists after reading the last few chapters and that if I didn't inject some happy pills into my work soon, no one will ever read it again. That made me feel all warm inside as you could possibly guess._

_BUT, after having spent almost two weeks on this…I have to just put it up. It's really what I always planned it be and if nothing it is a pretty decent piece of writing. I know it's a very long chapter and it could potentially be described as "boring", whatever that means… But I do hope I'll get some feedback on it. Preferably positive (and all you who have reviewed so far are my guiding angels, I hope you know that) feedback and let me know what you think. I really did do my best and for whoever is still reading you should know that I do intend to get these silly people out of the woods veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrry soon. Never you fear._

_Alright…go at it, you beautiful people! **(Flinches and then runs behind table)**_

_P.S. I have revised chapter two which is entitled "Memories of Sophia-Belle". It is the last of my revisions for a while (I hope, we'll see after this chapter…) and it is SOOOO much better… (**Crosses fingers**). Please give it a go as well and tell me what you think._

**Insipiration for this chapter from "The Story" By Brandi Carlile.**

I climbed across the mountaintop

Swam all across the ocean blue  
I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules  
But baby I broke them all for you

Because even when I was flat broke  
You made me feel like a million bucks  
You do  
I was made for you

You see the smile that's on my mouth  
It's hiding the words that don't come out  
And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed  
They don't know my head is a mess  
No, they don't know who I really am  
And they don't know what  
I've been through like you do  
And I was made for you...

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Revelations**

**

* * *

**

No one spoke the next day about the previous night. It was a forbidden subject and there wasn't much room for talking anyways. Christian had emerged from the woods that morning and having greeted his companions amiably, crawled into the back of the wagon and almost immediately fell asleep under the pile of blankets that bad been thrown inside carelessly.

Neither Chip nor Sophia wanted to wake him so they did their best to break camp quietly and were soon on the road getting closer and closer to their destination.

Somewhere around mid afternoon, Christian groggily sat up in the wagon that was rhythmically rocking back and forth as the horses trotted methodically along. Sophia and Chip were sitting on the drivers seat without speaking. Just watching the countryside blur past them. Christian could tell that Sophia was exhausted and felt guilty for having commandeered the back of the wagon for so long when she could have used some extra rest herself. He gently reached a hand up and stroked her arm, as she was sitting a little higher then he. She turned around when she felt his touch and looked at him with an expression that spoke half relief, half sadness. Chip turned himself about as well to see Christian for a moment then returned to his job of keeping the horses moving. Christian stared deeply into his daughter's face. Oh, she was so beautiful to him. Like the most exquisite of roses, she was one of his most favorite things to look at. He wasn't sure if they were ever going to be able to repair their relationship but at that moment he could pretend he was still her everything.

"Would you like to come back here and sit with me for a while?" He said over the clop of the horse's hooves on the ground.

She paused for only a moment to consider then nodded. Carefully, as not to fall off the wagon she took his outreached hand and climbed into the bed to sit down next to her father. Christian immediately put his arm around her shoulders and pressed her body up against his own. She did not resist but simply pulled her arms in close to herself and smashed her face into his chest which suddenly seemed so big and strong and his embraced engulfed her like a blanket. She wondered why he was doing this, why he would even consider touching her after all she had done. But Sophia realized almost instantly that she was too selfish to ask. She needed this moment more then life itself and she wanted to hold onto it for a little longer before he came back to his senses.

He was warm and his heart beat regularly in his chest and she marveled at it without looking up into his face.

Christian looked down on the crown of hair around his daughter's head and all the little hairs that stuck out at every angle. She was so big. How had that happened? When was the last time he had held his Sophia? She wasn't a little girl anymore and he had missed it! How cruel time was to this man: taking away his parents, then his childhood and finally his child, turning her into a woman. He would have liked to hit time in the face if it had one. Instead he laid his hand gently on the back of her head and squeezed her closer to him so as to reassure himself that she wasn't going anywhere.

This had the effect of bursting a dam in Sophia and she clung to her father as if she were a very small child again and he could somehow keep her safe from the world. This was not a sweet and happy reunion between father and daughter. This was a sad reminder of how distant they had grown and it wrenched Sophia's heart out of her body and made her gasp for air in the process.

"Oh Father," She said, muffling her voice with his shirt. "I'm so frightened."

Christian stroked Sophia's hair gently with his fingers and pressed his cheek down on the part in her hair.

"Don't you worry about it anymore. I'm not going--" He stopped himself in mid-sentence to consider what he was about to say. He was going to say that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. But how stupid was that statement? Of course he couldn't stop things from happening to her. He had tried to do that her whole life and look what kind of mess they had gotten into. Things had to happen to her or else she might end up a bitter twisted old maid who hated life in general. He had to stop thinking about her as a little babe resting in his arms and start thinking about her as a woman capable of marrying, having children, and even possibly ruling the country should she have to.

The pause in his speech caused Sophia to stir in his arms as she wondered what had stopped him. He quickly began stroking her hair again and then whispered into her locks.

"Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

But Sophia worried. She worried about everything and anything that would come to her brain. She knew that they were getting close to the place that her father believed the rest of their family was. This terrified her because she had things that needed to be said, things that she had thought carefully about and wanted to make known to her father before he left her again. She had to make this right by him before she ran out of time.

Gently resting his head on the side-bored of the wagon, Christian took a huge breath of air and then exhaled it through his mouth. It was a rather cloudy day outside and was threatening to rain again. He looked up to the sky and smiled at it sadly. He could at least be happy that the rain had returned.

"Besides," he began, wanting to divert his daughter's melancholy. "The most pressing issue you need to worry about is what you are going to tell Cogsworth and your mother when they see you dressed like this." He chuckled and plucked at the sleeve of her shirt.

Sophia gave a little glare and then responded. "Oh that's easy. I'm going to blame Chip. It really is all his fault anyways."

Christian laughed out loud at his daughter's childishness. Chip didn't even turn around to look. He pulled the reigns so that the horses settled into a slow walk.

"Oh of course!" He said sarcastically. "Blame the servant. It's always his fault!"

Christian shook his head, smiling. "Rather nice reprieve from it always being _my_ fault, if I do say so myself."

Chip turned his head slightly and gave a wicked grin. "But that's the thing Christian, it usually _is_ your fault, most of the time."

Christian put a hand to his chest and made an indeterminate sound between hurt and indignation.

"That's a horrible thing to say, Chip! I'm wounded!"

Chip threw back his head and laughed hard, causing Sophia to giggle incessantly. But she nestled her face into the hollow between her father's shoulder and chest to let him know that she didn't think everything was his fault though she had said so herself many times in the past.

After a while the sun made a small attempt to peek out between the ominous rain clouds that were continually descending upon the group. Chip steered the horses into a small alcove of trees just off the road they were traveling on and pulled the wagon to a stop.

"How does an early lunch sound to you two?" He said jumping down from the wagon to proceed with unhitching the horses. Both Christian and Sophia nodded their affirmative and began to climb out of the wagon.

Christian rubbed his hands together and spent the next hour or so showing Sophia how to make a sufficient trap for catching rabbits. He felt a small swell of pride at how quickly she learned and how determined she was to understand the concept perfectly.

Lunch consisted of bread, dried meat and what was left over from the fruits and other perishable items Sebastian and Olive had packed for the travelers. The mood was fairly solemn as they all sat against the wagon. Occasionally one would say something to lighten the mood but for the most part they all sat in silence. The clouds began to descend even lower and Christian sensed, rather then felt, the movements of the forest stir as mother animals tucked their children away from the impending storm that inevitably was coming. Thunder would be rolling in very soon and they would have to stop and find shelter to wait it out. He felt deeply disturbed by the thought and tried to find something to curse over his inability to get to his destination in a timely manner. Unfortunately there was nothing for him to plausibly be angry at except the storm itself and Christian was too afraid of his Deity hearing his mental complaints and would take the rain away again. Or send something worse, like a dearth on the crops. He wasn't sure his sanity could handle that.

It was Sophia that called him out of his erratic thoughts. She had been sitting in a patch of grass not two feet away from him when she finally elected to speak. Her voice was meek and she was twisting her hands in her lap the same way Belle did when she didn't want to cause a fight but still had to tell him something unpleasant.

"Father?"

Christian turned his large eyes and his attention over to his daughter. "Yes?"

"I need to ask you some things."

Christian shifted his weight into a more comfortable sitting position and nodded his head.

"What's on your mind?"

"Everything."

He let out a low chuckle and smiled at her. "Your head must be very full then."

Sophia looked away from him into the forest, which indicated to Christian that whatever she wanted to ask was a very serious matter to her.

"Sophia…I'm listening."

She paused as she tried to find the words to speak to him. She had thought all this out carefully for the past few days. Ever since they had stopped at the home of the blacksmith Sebastian. But now that she had finally screwed up her courage to say something, her tongue was suddenly too dry to make anything come out sounding polished.

"Father…" She spoke sounding much younger then her near seventeen years. "I need to know…. I need to know who you are. Why this happened. I need to know what it was that caused all these things to happen."

If Christian had been standing he would have rocked back on his heals at that moment. As it was he tilted his head back and looked deeply into his daughter's face.

"Oh Sophia…" he began after taking a long breath of air. "You don't want to know those things. Trust me. They are better left in the past where they belong."

Sophia had anticipated this response and was not in any mood to be rejected in her plight. Her life had changed completely and permanently. She needed to know why.

"Father, please. I have to know. You've kept so many secrets from me my whole life about who you are and where you come from and I need to know why… Please, I'm begging you to tell me."

Christian felt like she had stabbed him with a rusty knife. Her brown eyes were so round and pleading that he found himself torn desperately between staying hidden and rushing to comfort her despite his previous resolve to remain silent. It was a final 'Please' that got him. He just couldn't see that suffering look on her face anymore. He would have incarcerated any man for making his daughter look so sadly.

His shoulders sagged and he ran his hand along the back of his neck and hairline. He shook his head and gave her a look that indicated she was causing him great pain. Letting out a sigh that seemed to echo through centuries of broken dreams and lost time he finally nodded his head.

"Your mother is not going to like this." She murmured to the ground. "Alright, what do you want to know?"

She pursed her lips wondering just a little why her father had given in so easily. "I want to know who you are. I don't even know who your parents were. What was your life before this spell happened to you? What caused all this to start?"

Christian swallowed and thought for just a moment about the last time he had answered these same questions. It had been to Belle who had been so understanding and forgiving of his past, holding his hands as he had explained his sad beginnings to her and had accepted his feeble excuses for his poor actions. Shaking off the reminder of the previous happiness he had held with her he plunged into the present. Dwelling on what used to be wouldn't bring it back. Would telling his daughter everything change his life again? He wasn't sure, but he was fairly certain this was all a terrible idea.

"I already regret this." He whispered before deciding on what best to tell and what might need to be left out for her innocent peace of mind. He doubted that would work though. The more time he spent with Sophia the more he was discovering that she was just too quick and far too excellent at reading people's faces. How she had developed that skill, Christian would never know.

Licking his lips he opened his mouth and let it reveal all his secrets.

"This castle that we are heading for…. Have you ever heard of it Sophia?"

She blinked a few times; wondering if he was trying to divert her questions then shook her head.

"Constantine? No I haven't"

"That doesn't surprise me because it's not a castle at all. It's a military fortress and an insignificant one at that. Though I do not know exactly when or why it was built I do know that in the last hundred years or so it has been used mostly for sending soldiers who have outlived their usefulness. Men who are either lame or old or have become too much a nuisance to keep around but not enough to dispose of."

Christian paused wondering if he actually _wanted_ to tell his daughter these things. Wouldn't he have refused her without question had he not? But, either way, he had started and it didn't seem like he could change her mind so he continued.

"This also happens to be the place I was born."

Sophia opened her mouth to question him but was silenced with a raise of his hand.

"Yes, I lied to you. I lied to you about a great many things. I'm not going to spend the next…however long it is going to take before you are satisfied with my answers, trying to apologize for my dishonesty. I do not regret it and I do not care to hear any of your indignation over it."

Sophia closed her mouth immediately and remained silent as the grave while he continued on. His nature had become businesslike and he seemed to be channeling his kingly self, handing out instructions for his court.

"My family has been on the throne for a very long time. And even before that, we have been distantly related to whoever was in power. To go through our entire family history would only bore you so I'll spare the details. My father was the second son of the king of France. This was a very unfortunate position to be in as I'm sure you can understand."

Unfortunately, Sophia didn't understand and breaking her resolves to remain quiet so that her father would continue talking, she blurted out a confused. "Why?"

Chip leaned in towards her to explain. "If you were a legitimate son of the king, but were born second it would mean that you would be next in line for the throne. The problem is you would probably never rule because by the time your elder brother dies there would already be his own heirs to assume the crown."

Christian nodded his approval at Chip's understanding of politics. "Exactly. I never wanted you to know, Sophia, but our family is not known for enjoying the role of second best. In fact we have a long bloody history of mysterious deaths amidst the immediate family closest to power. In any case at some point my uncle and the oldest son of the king was coroneted. He went on to marry a young princess of Austria. Her name was Mandolin and she was the seventh daughter of a lesser position on the royal courts. It was a great honor for her parents to barter her off to the French king as none of her sisters had been given quite an offer that good."

Something in Christian's voice changed as he spoke the name of the Austrian princess. Sophia made mental note to remember her, as she was certain the girl was important in the story.

"There was a great celebration and my uncle was given a good deal of attention. This is again, unfortunate, as three months after he was crowned king he died in a horrible riding accident that left him mutilated."

Christian gave a pause for dramatic effect and Chip looked deeply at his master's matter-of-fact attitude. "Was it really an accident?" he asked Christian.

He replied instantly. "As to that, I don't think I'll ever know. On that day in my father's journal he wrote of a hunting trip where he spoke of taking down a large stag out in the woods and then ripped the poor creatures heart out while it was still beating. I always wondered if it was meant to be some horrific metaphor. In any case the king was dead and who better to fill his shoes then his grieving younger brother who was coroneted almost instantly after my uncle's burial. I will not mince words to you, my daughter. My father was a lying, murderous despot who lapped up power like a gluttonous dog. They did not refer to him as Etienne the terrible for nothing. But… he was king and as such gained everything his brother had gained. Power, wealth, responsibility, and as tradition would have it…a widowed queen. Mandolin had not conceived in her union with my uncle but her family had paid handsomely for her to be married to the French King. Due to the fact that my father did not want to give up that money, nor did he fancy angry feelings to come from his union with Austria, he took her to wife."

Sophia would have liked to have snapped her fingers as she realized that this Mandolin was in fact her father's mother. She had to be! She decided right then and there that she liked the name Mandolin very much and would use it often from now on.

"As fate would have it the poor Austrian princess had a very fatal flaw. As in her previous marriage she could not become pregnant. This was not a good thing and while everyone despised my father for his ill treatment of the people and his incessant taxations on everyone, they also demanded that the King produce an heir as soon as possible. It was tradition.

Years passed and still there was not one hint of a baby. Soon rumors began to spread that Etienne was not able to father children. This was clearly a death sentence on my father's reputation and on Mandolin herself. Perhaps because she was a few years older then my father and because she had not been his choice in the first place, he did the only thing he knew how to do to stop the incessant mockery of his manhood by the people. Divorce is not something we do in this country, so he banished her and claimed she had died of a tragic illness. He even stuffed a coffin with a recently deceased maid and held a formal funeral. Killing her right off would have alerted her parents in Austria, as there are many prying eyes in the castle. But if my father wasn't anything else, he was at least patient. She was sent to live at Constantine with the smattering of banished soldiers who had spent a great many years there alone with only each other for company. Both Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts were sent with her to ensure she arrived safely and they would return in a year after she was settled in her prison. But, I will say this for her, she was very brave. With her damaged pride she brought with her the only thing her hated husband had ever wanted from her and one she believed she would be able to keep hidden from him."

Chip smiled a bit ruefully and nodded his understanding. "You."

Christian smirked a little and nodded back. Sophia would have liked to have smirked and nodded too but if truth were to be told she actually didn't know how it all worked in the first place. It was a great mystery to her how babies were made and she had spent hours with Celestine discussing the topics. Neither had been able to come up with a definite answer and could not seem to persuade it out of any of the staff they had confronted on the issue. She knew that it sometimes had something to do with being married and she assumed it was done between the man and his woman. After that she was out of clues, but would rather have died than ask her father about the subject, especially at a time like this.

"I have very few memories of my mother. She was determined to keep me a secret and it must have taken all her talents to ensure that the king never found out about me. And for a good long while it worked. He had all but forgotten that he was legally married to my mother and remarried quickly. Every year Mrs. Potts would return for a few months from Rose Castle to our home in Constantine. It was part of the arrangement that was made between my mother and father upon her banishment and so I remember her being around often."

Christian paused for a moment and smiled, remembering something before speaking it aloud. "Years later I read your father's journals, Chip. I have always intended to give them to you but they do contain a great many things I suppose I didn't want you to know. In them he wrote about me as a boy and usually he would use words such as 'the bare-footed heathen child' or 'the queen's bad-mannered secret'."

Christian laughed to himself, seeing Jedidiah Potts in his mind clearly saying those very words.

"I was not raised knowing I was a prince. Something my mother intentionally forgot to inform me. But I was reluctantly obligated to learn princely things such as you were taught in your own studies, Sophia. I did not take well to them, much preferring to ride my pony bareback through the hills that surrounded the fortress. My complete refusal to comprehend reading and arithmetic was deplorable and I threw the worst of tantrums when they tried to force me to understand. The only person who could truly compel me to learn how to walk and talk with dignity was my mother and, unfortunately, she rarely made the effort. Whenever Mrs. Potts came to visit she was usually given the unpleasant task of taking over my studies for a while.

It wasn't long before I began to suspect that I was not an ordinary child. The simple fact that people so much older then I always, eventually, obeyed me was my first clue. I soon made the connection that if my mother was referred to as 'the queen' then that would put me in a significantly higher position then I had always assumed. It infuriated me that she would be so dishonest and I refused to speak to her whenever she called me in to have tea with her. She did not spend time with me often which was confusing for me and so I would intentionally escape my studies just so she would be forced to pay me some attention."

Again, Christian paused and seemed to grow a little sad at the memory. "Looking back now… I suppose I must have reminded her of him. I cannot blame her for being distant though it would take me many years to understand and then forgive her for never caring as much as I thought she should."

There was a deep sigh and then he continued. "I am sure that deep down my mother always knew the King would eventually find out. I have come to discover that it was some of the men from the royal hunting parties passing through with Jedidiah Potts who informed my father. Rumors of a small boy living at Constantine, who bore a striking resemblance to his majesty and just happened to be the exact age in years as the queen had been 'deceased', filtered into Rose Castle like flies to honey. I was eight at the time. Only a few months after the hunting party passed through, a large caravan of carriages arrived at the gates of the fortress and a great alarm seemed to fill every corner. I was unceremoniously ripped out of my bed in the middle of the night and marched down to one of the rooms that were used for my studies. It was here that I met my father for the first time and I made it very clear I was not happy about it. I do not remember what was discussed, only that it was determined that I was in fact his son. I think he would have beaten my mother senseless right then and there had he not been so stunned by the revelation. He had to decide quickly what it was he was going to do with me, which did not improve my mood. How was he going to legitimize me without incriminating himself? He eventually did come up with something to appease the people and for reasons I will never understand he made the orders and I was packed away that very evening and sent to Rose Castle, kicking and screaming. He deeply disliked my mother and I have come to assume that this is the real reason behind my relocation. But I will never forget her tears as I was hauled away from her without so much as a chance to say good-bye. The image of her sobbing at the door to that study room was the last time I ever saw her."

With a curt nod to cover his emotion, Christian continued on with his sad tale. "I arrived at Rose Castle a complete mess of fit-throwing and demanded to see my mother. When I was informed that this was an impossibility I made sure that everyone I came across understood exactly how upset this made me. I was washed and primped and this only made to aggravate me more. I was then led into a nursery that had been hastily prepared for my arrival and was greeted with the only familiar face I had seen yet. Mrs. Potts was to become my nanny of sorts and I do remember that had she not been there I might have become quite catatonic with how distraught I was becoming. She took me in her arms and held me close as I screamed and hollered out my anger at the world. I do not burst into tears by nature, though I have found myself in that sort of predicament a few times in my life. I had learned to express my emotions through my anger and was accustomed to getting my way. This is the best excuse I can muster for my awful behavior."

Taking a deep sigh, Christian shrugged his shoulders. "And that is that."

For a moment no one spoke. Under normal circumstances Sophia would have insisted that he continue. He obviously thought he had spoken enough, when in reality he had only managed to cause more questions to bubble to the surface. Inching just a little closer to him, she gazed up at is wistful face and hoped that he would not push her away.

"What happened to her? Mandolin, your mother, what happened to her?"

Christian closed his eyes for a moment and then set his lips into a thin sad line. He looked out into the trees as if he would love nothing better then to just wander off into them and not continue with this conversation. But, he determined that he had to answer his daughter's questions whether he liked it or not.

"A few weeks after I arrived at Rose Castle my father called me into his chambers and informed me that my _'cowardly mother'_ had hung herself off the tower of Constantine fortress."

There was silence for a moment. Chip gazed fixedly at his master's face and shook his head slightly as if trying to figure out a very difficult puzzle. "You don't believe it, do you?"

Christian sighed and wished he could spare his daughters innocent belief in the world instead of shattering it with his ugly past. "It's curious really, I only have a few memories of my mother. One thing I do remember though, interestingly enough, is that she was deathly afraid of heights. She wouldn't even go as high as the third floor of the fortress. So it is…curious that she would have gone as high as the tower to kill herself. There are easier ways that would have frightened her less."

He paused for a moment and swallowed bitterly at what he was about to say next. "But I had no choice except to believe my father and in the end it didn't matter either way. She was dead and had left me without ever having said goodbye. I hated her for it and, God help me; I was glad she was gone. I vowed to never forgive her for leaving me all alone in a place I hated, with a father who seemed to invariably hate me."

The silence was complete. The forest itself seemed to know that something tragic was being spoken of and had assumed nothingness to compensate the story of a woman long dead. Sophia wrung her hands and then asked a question that would determine much of her opinion of her father for the rest of her life.

"Do _you_?"

Christian looked at her a little puzzled. "Do I what?"

"Hate your father?"

Without taking his eyes off her face he shook his head. "No. Not anymore."

When she seemed to want more to this answer he rubbed his hands over the stubble on his face and sighed. "It's…complicated. My father…. he takes up such a permanent part of my life when in reality I only knew him for a few short years. I arrived at Rose Castle a few days before he did and then did not actually speak with him for weeks after that. It's funny really but even though I was still quite perturbed by his abrupt visit to my home in Constantine, I was actually very eager to become acquainted with him. I had always wanted a father and not only did I get that but one who was, in fact, a king.

In the end it was my stepmother I met first. I was introduced to her by Mrs. Potts and my infant half-sister the day after I came to live at our home."

Sophia looked sympathetically at her father. "Was she awful? Your stepmother?"

Christian gazed at his daughter, quite confused, for a moment before he realized the meaning behind her question. He smiled a little ruefully and shook his head. "No, dear. Not everyone fits the fairy-tale mold. My stepmother was named Aurelia and she was thirteen years old when I met her."

Christian didn't give his daughter a second to digest this concept before continuing on. "She was a lovely girl who had been placed into a awful situation by her parents just as my own mother had been. Except that Aurelia was very young and my father was not gentle with her. Had we been given the opportunity we might have become very good friends. On occasion she would demand that I come and play with her and her dolls that she had brought with her from her previous home. I also never really got to know my younger sister Catherine. This is perhaps because we came from different mothers and my father had determined that I had a great many things I must be molded into before I could ever be his heir."

Christian took a long swig of water out of his pouch before continuing, realizing that this story was becoming far longer then he would have liked.

"Once my father arrived at Rose Castle and from the first day on, regardless of my enthusiasm for his presence, I was not to his liking. My mother, to no end, had irreversibly spoiled me and on top of that there had been great neglect in my studies and discipline. This was not to be born of the son of Etienne D'Rosienne. Not to mention he was under a startling amount of fire for not mentioning to the people that he had a legitimate son and heir to the crown. He realized early on that he had a great deal of training to do in me and I would shape up to his standard of excellence no matter what."

For a moment Christian stared at the wagon and then to the surprise of Chip and Sophia he began to chuckle. For such a dark and dreary topic his laughter was beyond out of place.

"I remember he used to call me into the audience chamber to sit with him while he conducted business with the people. And oh, how I would cause as much trouble for him as I possibly could. I would speak out of turn and kick my feet against his throne so he would know I was still sitting there with him. And he hated it when I asked questions. I am not even sure to this day why, but I would do my best to ask the silliest questions I could right in the middle of some meeting. He would turn and look at me and say, 'Don't be ridiculous, idiot boy, the sky is blue because I ordered it so!' I was always ridiculous to him…"

Christian trailed off with a smile on his face and wished for a moment he could end his narrative with that. Sophia didn't like the way her father wasn't saying everything. It frightened her that things could be worse then a father calling his young son 'ridiculous'.

"Those scars on your back…. He did that, didn't he?"

Christian grimaced, wondering when it was that Sophia had noticed the sad traces of his childhood. After a moments hesitation he nodded and sat up a little straighter. Sophia bit her lip and then continued.

"Why?"

Christian wanted to be sarcastic, as this subject made him intensely uncomfortable. But he forbad himself from making his daughter cry by snide remarks so he answered her honestly. "Oh Sophia… Why would any father beat his children? My father thought he was teaching me something. His father beat him and his grandfather before that beat his father. It is the way of our family. I was an insolent child who was prone to talking back."

Christian snorted derisively. "He would often threaten to disinherit me and to further his fury I would usually tell him to go ahead and do it. I didn't even know what disinherit meant but if it made him angry then I would say it. By the time I was almost ten years old I had already been introduced to horrific things I will never describe to you Sophia. Things that no child should ever have to endure. He knew that in many ways I was much like him and perhaps it is the sin of all fathers that we want our children to be just like us. Perhaps, in some ways, we believe that this will somehow carry our legacy after we are gone. But I would prove to be nothing of what he wanted. I missed my mother terribly and was often left in the care of Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, and Lumiere who catered to my every whim, which wasn't good for a child like me anyways."

"I will never understand why he did the things he did. He was my father and I desperately wanted him to love me, to be proud of me. I do not love the things he did and I know it was out of desperation and paranoia that he did them. But I forgive him for it and I pray to any God who will listen to me, for his soul. It is the best I can do in hopes that my own will be spared."

Christian gripped his hands together and breathed deeply at the memory of his father. This was especially potent due to his disturbing dream he had suffered the night before. He did not want his daughter to know these things about him. Oh, why couldn't he just go back to the days when she believed he was perfect and that his past was as free of shadows as a sunny day?

"How did he die?" Sophia whispered knowing that her father wasn't going to go along with this much further.

Christian shook his head as if he was going to refuse her question. He looked up and his eyes met with Chips. Chip realized that while this whole narrative was deeply important because it belonged to his master, he hated to see Christian hurting like this. It almost made him hate the Enchantress for cursing him. After hearing all these terrible memories put to words one would think that this poor man sitting in front of him had endured enough.

Swallowing his pride, Christian would see this to the end, even if it killed him. "There was to be a large winter holiday that my family and myself would travel to in December of my tenth year. It was bitterly cold outside and there was a thick layer of snow on the ground. Something had happened; I don't even remember what, but my father was in a rage. He was furious and was throwing such a temper that no one would go near him. I was called into the audience chamber and stood while he delivered a string of abuse that I wouldn't soon forget. But I was becoming old enough to no longer be frightened of his rants. In fact it infuriated me and for the first time in my life I shouted back at him. I screamed for all the world to hear that I hated him and that I wished he was dead."

For the hundredth time Christian paused as if he truly did not want to speak of this anymore. "Regardless of anything that happened between my father and I…I am so ashamed of those words…I don't know if I'll ever forget that look of astonishment and…and…_hurt_ on his face. After all, even at my young age I knew that somewhere in my father's ignorance and misery he really did think he was doing me good. I, on the other hand, knew perfectly well that my words were purely to hurt him. But I had no idea they would affect him so. He had always seemed so hard, so bitter and un-giving that to have him falter at the idea that his only son wanted him dead was beyond either of us. I have also never received such a beating as I did that day and I ended up in my bed for three weeks after. This was unfortunate because my family was to depart for our winter château the very next day after our fight and I was in no way capable of travel if my father wanted to keep me alive, or so the physician had told him. My stepmother wept because she had so wanted me to come along with her for the months we would be together. This only irritated the situation more and in my father's fury he ordered almost half the household to pack their belongings. My father was not known for his rational when he was this angry and he ordered several people to come along with my family for the holiday that would not normal travel on such occasions. Cogsworth and Lumiere were to remain behind, as was my nanny. You were very young Chip, not yet old enough to understand what had happened. I was grateful for this when I finally got to know you because I would have never wanted you to know the truth. It was my fault your father died. My fault that my own father was so furious and hurt that he demanded that Jedidiah Potts come along on the journey, separating him from his wife and your mother for the holiday. It was my fault that the king demanded that they leave sooner then they had intended and it was my own stupid temper and anger that drove my father to take a different and shorter route through the forest. If they hadn't been traveling so fast…perhaps they would have noticed the pond, covered in snow. They would have been able to hear the crack before it was too late and retreated to the bank before the ice gave out. But they didn't and the weight was so heavy with the amount of sleighs that had reached the center that everyone fell through. Your father, my stepmother, my sister, and my father, as well as dozens of others went through the ice and died. We couldn't bury them till the following spring when the ice melted and their bodies could be recovered."

For the first time in this entire afternoon that Christian had been speaking, his voice broke and he had to remain silent for a time to collect himself. He utterly refused to break down in front of his daughter and Chip whose attentions were so thoroughly captured by his voice that he could have been telling them anything and they would have listened intently. Chip bit his lip to remain calm himself and clenched his hands to try and keep himself from weeping.

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't make any of that happen." Chip said, feeling his heart hammer in his chest.

Christian looked up from his silent hell and shook his head sadly. "But I am the only one left who can take responsibility. I have to be responsible for my actions because if I could…I would give anything to change what I did and bring those people back to us."

Finally, wringing his hands, Christian opened his mouth, but did not look up from his position on the ground. "After this I suppose you know the story, my daughter. I was left completely and utterly alone. My father's family descended on me like a bat out of hell and it was determined what to do with me for the next few years while I grew up. I couldn't yet be king as it was determined I was not ready and so I was left into the care of my father's trusted advisers due to the fact that no one else wanted to take me as their ward. My cousin was to become an 'acting' king until I was old enough to resume my father's responsibilities. But I was still the crowned prince and as such I had an enormous amount of power at my disposal. I was given everything I wanted and even more things I didn't, just to please me. My father had taught me to only except the most perfect of everything and to never apologize for anything. If I was to ever become a real man, I would adhere to the rules of the Rosienne family. I promised myself that if I couldn't make my father love me in his life then I would make him love me in death. I would be the man he wanted me to be.

Deep down, I was in agony. I missed my family so terribly and hated them equally for leaving me. I grew cold and forgot what it was like to feel love, if I had ever felt it before in the first place…. Oh God Sophia… I lost my soul."

Finally Christian choked and he breathed in deeply as the tears finally burned in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

"There is no excuse for the things I did after my family's death. Though I have come to find forgiveness from my staff that I abused and betrayed over and over, as well as from my Belle who had no reason to do so, I will never be able to forgive myself. I had become a monster long before I looked like one and I deserved that curse as surely as I deserved nothing else. I have come to find redemption only because a few truly perfect people believed that there was hope for a creature who had never learned how to love and had long-since abandoned his unused heart. Why I was ever given a second chance is so far beyond me I know I will never be able to catch up with it. But I was and here I sit, again wondering how one person could have such a life and still live to tell about it."

For a moment Christian shifted his position and rubbed his face with his hands, hoping he didn't look as ready to weep as he felt. "I want you to know one thing, my Sophia-Belle. I may have failed you miserably as a father and as a friend but I want you to know that in the end…all I ever wanted to do was protect you from this. I just want you to be happy…. my girl."

Sophia looked at his face and could not breath, could not weep, could not think. She watched as, slowly, he lifted his head and gazed back at her frankly, one lonely tear sliding down his face.

* * *

Sophia went for a walk and Christian did not try to stop her. They would need to find a shelter to wait out the storm. The first of many thunder crashes were already being thrown across the French countryside and Christian did not fancy walking through an open field during a storm. There would be nothing more ironic then for him to get hit by lightening when he was only a day's journey from Constantine and his family.

He had made his way over to the horses and was adjusting harness to fit them more comfortably. There shifting weight told him they were long since tired of this journey and would like nothing better then to bite him and leave the three travelers stranded. Both so exhausted that they didn't even seem to give any heed to the oncoming storm, which was unusual. With a soft touch he stroked their forelocks and pressed his cheek to theirs, whispering secrets they would never tell.

Chip had a very distinct step when he approached people. To be blunt, he was downright loud and would be heard by a deaf man in the middle of a crowd even if he thought he was being discreet. Christian did not turn himself around to face the boy. He was going to do his best not to be a defeated man and wanted solitude to reflect his irrational decision to tell his daughter his secrets. Chip cleared his throat to announce to his master that he wanted to say something and Christian merely ran his fingers through the mane of the horse closest to him. Several stray rain drops had already fallen and would soon be followed by their hundreds of siblings. He had no desire to have any more conversation before they found shelter.

When Chip received no response he simply decided to speak and if Christian wanted to send him away, well, that was his prerogative.

"You don't have to answer me if you don't want to. I just want to know something. That blacksmith back there, Sebastian, when he spoke of the little boys your father had sent to his room, he was also talking about you wasn't he?"

Without speaking Christian nodded his head solemnly and continued to stroke the tired horse's face. Chip had almost hoped Christian would deny it, or at least come up with some logical explanation, but he remained mute.

"Did my mother know? My father? Cogsworth and Lumiere?"

Christian sighed heavily and finally graced his servant with words. "Yes, they knew. They knew about everything that happened in that castle including worse things then my father's choice of sleeping habits."

His voice was on the abrasive side, though that was never his intention. Chip took it in stride and then with generous steps, was next to Christian and gently reached out a hand and pressed his knuckles into the forehead of the horse his master wasn't stroking. For a moment he thought and then scowled, still needing to know a few things.

"Why didn't they do anything then? Where was my father when this was happening?"

Christian took a large breath of hair and then shook his head. "Do not venture there. Do not try and put blame onto anyone. It will not change what happened nor will it make you or I feel any better about it. There was absolutely nothing that could be done."

Without looking at the boy beside him, Christian continued, if a bit sadly. At least his voice held some sort of strength to it that Chip couldn't imagine having after a story like this.

"As you may have surmised, my father was a difficult man to understand and he would have killed anyone who he thought was trying to take his son away from him. He was too ignorant to understand that he was pushing me away all on his own. I can make excuses for him and I can rage at him and I can do my best to try and figure him out but it will also not change what he did. Yes, it was awful and I hate it. I hate how it makes me feel sometimes but…. I cannot change it, so I must move on."

Chip let his arms go limp at his sides and looked at Christian's profile. It was calm and he seemed to have come to some sort of catharsis or else he was repressing himself again. Chip wasn't entirely sure.

"How did you ever come to be so…. Calm?"

Christian graced him with a chuckle and took a step back onto the heel of his good foot. "I have had years to come to terms with my life. I'm still working on it too, as you were plainly displayed this afternoon."

Chip wanted to argue but kept his tongue in check, not wanting to push Christian over the edge. "I am really glad you let me hear your story, sire. Even if you are not."

Christian again gave a half smile. "I'm not angry about it…just lost in thought, more then anything else."

And perhaps because they were both men and they had both displayed more emotion then either thought they were capable of during this long journey, the subject of Christian's sad childhood was now closed. They would not talk about it anymore. Chip, because he understood that he would never be given answers that would suffice his anger over the topic and Christian, because he was still a strong man despite everything and would hold his head up and not weep over it anymore.

After a moment the king turned to his servant and his eyes narrowed, though more out of amusement then annoyance. "Alright, well, that is enough standing here clucking like gossiping hens. We need to get a move on; the rain has already started up again."

Chip nodded quickly and then turned his body around nonchalantly. "I'll go get Sophia. I think I heard her sobbing in some bushes down that way."

He took a step to head in the direction he had pointed when Christian caught his arm.

"And Chip…." He began, grappling with himself on how to best make his next request and still maintain his manliness. "I don't want Sophia to know the details of what happened between my father and I; not the ones you know about. She is too good for that. Please don't tell her."

Chip threw up his chin and looked Christian square in the face. "Tell her what? If Sophia hasn't already come to understand that you are the bravest man that either of us will ever know then she is a fool. I have no need to tell her anything."

And with that he stalked off down the path to retrieve the princess.

* * *

As luck would have it, Chip was able to find an abandoned shack not a mile off the road from where they had stopped for lunch. The three had sat in relative silence the rest of the evening as the fire was stoked and the bedrolls were laid out.

Without so much as a warning, Sophia had gotten to her feet and for the first time since their conversation that afternoon she addressed her father plainly to his face.

"Father," she began with as much authority as she could muster. "I have something I need to speak to you about."

Christian looked up at her and smiled despite himself. She would certainly make a good leader one day, he determined. "Alright, what can I do for you?

Taking a deep breath to steady her resolve she lifted her chin. "You spoke earlier of how your father had threatened to disinherit you."

Christian's eyes tightened and narrowed as he wondered where this was going to go. He had had, without a doubt, quite enough for one day. "Yes…"

For a moment Sophia wrung her hands together as if she would love nothing better then to just run away from what she was about to say, but to her credit she opened her mouth and continued. "Well, I don't know how all that works but I do know that I am under many of the same privileges as you were. And I have decided that I do not want them anymore. I am…renouncing my claim to the thrown and my privileges as a princess."

There was absolute silence between the three. All stood completely stunned, in three completely different ways. Perhaps because Chip was young and far less diplomatic then Christian he broke the stillness first.

"Are you barking mad?"

Sophia glared at him impressively and shook her head. "No. I have a right to do with my title as I will. I am sixteen years old. Old enough to marry and old enough to make my own decisions. I do not want to be a princess anymore. I don't deserve it."

Christian had a few fingers pressed to his lips pensively but his eyes showed consternation he was unsure how to approach. "Have you thought of what you would do once you renounced your title?" He asked calmly.

To his surprise, Sophia nodded her head, almost as calmly. "I want to be a servant. I do not want any advantage. I want to work for my life and my right to be alive. I want to earn my place in this world as you have earned yours."

Christian opened his mouth to argue with her when she put up her hand and stopped him. "This is my decision and I know that you are the only one who can ensure that my wishes are carried out. I'm asking you to allow me to do this."

Chip nearly jumped into the fire to get across to where Sophia was standing. "Really, Sophia, this isn't even close to being amusing. Do you even know what you are talking about?" He shook his head violently. "No, you don't! This is the same as you trying to run away! Nonsense! Complete nonsense!"

Sophia immediately felt threatened by Chip's rant. For reasons that weren't clear to her, she instantly turned to her father for support, as she would have when she was younger. Christian's lips were drawn into a strait line and his brow was knit together, screaming of his worry. Giving him wide-eyed pleading, she spoke softly. "Papa…. Please. Please do this for me."

Christian grimaced at her pleading. She had called him 'Papa'. His heart gave a horrible jolt from the sound of it and he wanted to be infuriated with her for invoking the nickname just to manipulate him. Which, he knew it would. It had been so long since she had called him 'Papa' and he missed it so desperately. _So_ like her mother, he thought to himself. Belle knew how to manipulate him too. Little gestures and words that would send him over the edge so that no matter what they were asking of him, his resistance was absolutely useless. Of all the enemies he held in this world and all the ways in which people tried to use him, the ones who were the most ruthless and the only ones he could not counter were his wife and daughter. _'Women,'_ he mused _'Completely insufferable.'_

All this was considered with a knowledge that he would comply with his daughter's wishes, as horrible as they sounded. Still, he abhorred the idea of Sophia being a servant. How did she think she was going to get a job in the first place? Did she even understand that she would need some sort of recommendation for her to get decent enough work?

Running a hand along the back of his hairline he made one last ditch effort to convince her otherwise. "Sophia, let's talk about this. You do not know what you are asking me."

But the girl was not to be deterred. She would not give in on this and she had good reasons why.

"Father," she said firmly, hoping her tone of voice would convince him to comply with her wishes. Even if he didn't like them, they were for the best, or so she thought. "You spoke today of how you lost your family and never got the chance to say goodbye. You believe it was from your own actions. Well, Papa, I do know that I almost lost my father and I would not have gotten the chance to say goodbye. And, I happen to know that it was in fact my fault. I am not fit to wear any sort of crown. I have much I need to atone for."

Christian did not agree, nor did Chip for that matter. She was taking something and expanding it into mass proportions. And it was a cruel thing to do, to use Christian's words against him. They stung sharply and he pressed his lips together with a bit of annoyance. But Christian had learned something through this experience. He was slowly, and painfully, learning that he could not control his daughter's life forever. He knew with an absolute certainty that this problem she was presenting wouldn't last. Things would work themselves out. That was something Mrs. Potts had taught him. But to his daughter, right now, this was everything as well as all encompassing and there really was nothing he could say that would change her mind. She would have to figure that out on her own. And perhaps this was a good thing. Perhaps she would come out of it smarter. And perhaps…. perhaps she would learn how to trust him again. That really would make the pain it would undoubtedly cause him, her, and Belle, a little more worthwhile.

With a deep sigh of resignation Christian raised his head sadly and looked Sophia in the eye. Chip did not miss the exchange and swung his foot to kick a stone into the fire.

"Christian! You cannot seriously be considering this rubbish!"

But if Christian heard him, he gave no sign. With sadness in his eyes he opened his mouth.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

Sophia bit her lip and then nodded solemnly.

Taking a deep breath he then complied. "Alright then. You will begin your work in the kitchens at Rose Castle when we get back. That is my only request I have of you. You come and work for me and no one else. Understood?"

Sophia nodded her head and gave him a small smile to try and show him that she did not regret her decision. "Thank you Papa."

Chip very nearly missed breaking his hand as he took a large swing at the walls of their shabby little shack.

"This is horse _shit_ and you know it, Christian!!! Why are you even doing this?" But Chip didn't wait for an answer knowing he would not win in an argument against his master when a decision like this was made. He was the king after all. Taking a large stride towards the door he stopped next to Sophia, his back to the fire and Christian. "The first day you step into that kitchen as a servant you're going to wish you had kept your mouth shut. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into. I would happen to know!"

And with that he stormed off into the rainstorm outside, not caring if he caught a chill and suffered all the way to Constantine. He was more furious then he could ever remember being. Though for exactly which reason he could not be certain. Because she was a princess of the royal family he served? Or was it something else?

* * *

**Please review. Reviews equal love!**


	36. Constantine

**Authors Note:** _So this was a chapter that was really easy to pump out. I think it's been written in my head for a few years now, which might be what made it so much fun to splash around on paper. I know this could easily be the end of the story but…… it's not. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. Not much further though, so don't give up on me! And don't worry. It's not going to turn into like a Lord of the Ring: Return of the King thing where it has like ten plausible endings. Trust me, you'll know when this thing is over._

_I could use a few reviews on this as well. Reviews on everything. What did you think? How did you feel? Reviews on your thoughts, on spelling mistakes, whatever! Lack of reviews could be an issue. I might go crazy from wondering if people aren't thinking about anything when they're reading this and then I might have to shove little Christian back into the woods on his rear end and break his other leg! (No I won't, but you smiled! Yes I saw that…) Not too much further to go though, so hold tight. Love you all!_

**Song that inspired this chapter is "Your Call" by Secondhand Serenade. **_(They're my favorite. And it works. Christian could be an emo. Maybe. Like a stuck-up, snobby, royal emo….)_

Cause I was born to tell you I love you  
and I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine  
Stay with me tonight

Stripped and polished, I am new, I am fresh  
I am feeling so ambitious, you and me, flesh to flesh  
Cause every breath that you will take  
when you are sitting next to me  
will bring life into my deepest hopes, What's your fantasy?

And I'm tired of being all alone,

And this solitary moment makes me want to come back home.

Cause I was born to tell you I love you  
and I am torn to do what I have to, to make you mine  
Stay with me.

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Constantine**

* * *

Chip was not speaking to Sophia. This had suddenly made the whole trip allot less bearable. Surprisingly enough he was still communicating with Christian. In fact, Chip was making huge efforts to put up the pretense that nothing was wrong between Christian and himself. No, it was Sophia he was refusing to tolerate. Chip was clearly confused and since men don't like being confused he was going to be nasty about it. Frankly, he was not ready to make nice over the decisions that were made the previous night.

And, unfortunately, Christian wasn't really the person in his family who did the peacekeeping. In fact he wasn't really the one who did it when he was king. Oh, sure, he could manipulate a silly prince of Wales, barely out of his infancy, but usually Cogsworth trained him on what to say to best get what he wanted out of people. Unfortunately, Cogsworth was not present at the moment. And Christian really wasn't interested in getting these two to speak to each other when they were so desperately close to their destination. They would work it out later. He _did, _however, hate to see Sophia so sad over the loss of Chip's friendship, but it would have done him absolutely no good to try and convince the pair it would work out. Young people never believe that anyone else could know how they feel; always certain they are a complete original.

The previous nights storm had not entirely blown itself out and a light drizzle was a nuisance that left the roads so totally soft and muddy that more then once they had to stop to maneuver the horses out of a sink hole that would suck you down all the way to your knees.

At a little past noon they arrived in the village of Constantine. A pathetic little thing that held less population then what Christian housed in his own castle. But they were amiable enough if not a bit cautious. When Chip asked about the fortress just up the road they became a little more talkative and said there seemed to be allot of people gathering around in that area as of late. Chip asked for directions and gave the farmer a loaf of bread, as that was all they had to pay for services at this point. Plus, he knew they would arrive at the fortress soon and be able to find food that satiated their appetites a little better then dried fruits and meats.

On they rode, the horses sloshing through mud until they could barely continue on. Sophia still sat up in the driver's seat next to Chip, but the distance between their bodies was painfully obvious. Sitting so far away from him that whenever the wagon would wobble at a rut in the ground, she threatened to topple over.

Christian continuously scanned the horizon for the familiar tower of Constantine fortress. How completely nostalgic and inexplicable it was to be coming to this place after so many years of avoiding it. It had been the choice for possible escape destinations because it was so well out of the way and had been built at such a position as to make it impossible to be surprise attacked. And how ironic it was that he would visit the stories of his childhood here, to his daughter, a day before he was to see the place again. The incongruity did not escape him that the last he saw of the fortress was as an eight-year-old boy watching these very towers disappear in the deep stillness of the night.

Then quite suddenly they came up over the rise of a small hill and Christian nearly jumped up in surprise to see the fortress peek into view. One or two more hills and the entire establishment would be on full display for the travelers. His breath caught in his throat and he began to lean over the edge of the wagon to order Chip into a faster pace if that was possible.

Without so much as a warning there was a terrible battle cry of a roar that echoed almost above where the travelers were riding on the mud that would be a road. Another call resounded and it echoed into the trees that dotted along the pathway. Then just as suddenly, two arrows came whizzing out of the branches. One stuck itself into the side of the wagon, the other onto the bed, nearly spearing Christian's booted foot. Both horses went into a mass frenzy, rearing up on their hind legs. Sophia jumped up in alarm and upset the balance of the wagon. With one foot up and her arms out she fell over backwards off her perch and clear off her feet. Christian had just enough time to watch her make a quick movement to pull her arms in and though she hit the ground hard, she tucked in enough that her landing rolled her away from the horses mad plunging feet and the continuously rolling wheels. Chip had also stood and was doing his best to get control of the horses while hollering out curses as another arrow hit the seat where Sophia had just been sitting. Christian used his arms to hoist himself up onto his good leg using the backboard of the wagon. Once up, and was halfway steady, he pulled out the small boot knife he kept tucked into his pant leg. Holding it up, he felt completely foolish. It wasn't often, but on occasion he truly did miss his claws and sharp teeth that he gained as a beast. They were useful enough when it came to blows. And right now he was an invalid who wouldn't even be able to run away from whoever was shooting at them. Still, he wasn't going to let that show and without thinking he turned himself about to face the direction the arrows were coming from and then opened his mouth to give out an ugly snarl that they wouldn't soon forget.

When the horses finally stopped their stomping and their shrill whinnies ceased, there came a strange cough, directly above the wagon. Before Christian had time to tilt his head upwards to look, he heard strangled surprise from the owner of the cough.

"Christian?"

The man only had enough time to lean totally back and look up as a cloaked figure, hiding up in a branch of the tree, tossed his bow and arrow to the ground.

"Armand!!! This way!! Come out this way! It's Christian! It's Chip and Sophia! They're alright!!" The hooded figure started hollering.

A startled whiny from a horse came through the trees on the opposite end of the path that they were facing. Not a few seconds later, this same horse came crashing through the underbrush and onto the pathway, bearing another hooded figure still holding his bow, arrow in place to shoot. With a swift movement he caught sight of Christian's face and ripped the hood off his own head to reveal that it was in fact Armand. Christian barely had time to register this as quite suddenly Armand's counterpart took one long swing with his strong arms and jumped down from the branch right into the back of the wagon with Christian.

"Your highness!" Armand shouted with joy as he jumped down from his horse with a fluid movement.

Chip's eyes were popping out his head in astonishment. "Armand? Lamont?"

But neither of the brothers responded to their brother. With the vigor of youth, Armand volleyed the side of the wagon and Lamont grabbed his arm to pull him in. Quite suddenly the young men were no longer soldiers with bows and arrows, but children beside themselves with excitement to see their father.

One gave out a holler to be heard clear across the countryside and the other let out a ragged "Ahhhhh!" Then without even giving Christian a chance to lower his knife they rushed at him with arms held out for an embrace.

One grabbed the arm holding the weapon and stole it away so that neither would run on it. The other had just enough time to hear Christian call out something that sounded like "Don't hit my leg!" before arms were thrown around the king and he was toppled down with the accumulative of over three hundred pounds falling on top of him. Both Armand and Lamont were laughing hysterically at Christian as he grunted attempting to breath, while the boys hugged him and kissed his face the way Lumiere would. It was all entirely unmanly, but as no one seemed to notice, the boundless affection continued. Christian moaned, taking a gasp of air, "Oh, my ribs" he breathed through his teeth, as his diaphragm prepared to collapse.

"Boys?" He muttered barely able to get the words out as they continued to laugh and pummel Christian as if he were one of their companions in the guard. Perhaps this was due to the fact that Christian was the one who had given them their first lessons in swordplay, all the while learning the skills himself.

Armand rolled over onto the bed of the wagon and gained some control over his laughter.

"Christian! You're alive!"

Chip took a ginger step over the edge of the wagon into the back and kicked Lamont's boot angrily. "For now at least! What the hell do you idiots think you were doing shooting at us? And Lamont, what were you doing up in that damn tree?!"

Lamont sat up off of Christian's chest and looked at his brother anxiously. "But Chip, it was our orders. Do you know how many people have been coming through here? We've already had to put two mercenaries into the dungeon and Lucien's down there right now trying to get information out of them!"

Christian felt instant alarm at this information and pushed himself up onto his elbows to try and keep his ribs from cracking with pain. "Were these Dinsmore's orders?"

Both boys went quite still for a moment before Armand answered him. "Dinsmore is dead. He didn't make it out of Rose Castle."

Christian froze at the notion that his beloved captain of the guard could possibly have left him after so many faithful years of service. For if he had trained Armand and Lamont with the sword, at least in part, then it was Dinsmore who had trained him.

Lamont hung his head sadly, knowing just as well how this would affect his king. "I'm sorry, master."

Christian set his mouth into a thin line and nodded his head. Lamont, not able to bear such sadness in Christian, perked his head up enthusiastically and smiled

"But everything will be alright now. You are alive and we can stop mourning. Oh, I cannot wait to see the Fat Old Clock when he gets a sight of you! And Sophia!" Lamont began to turn himself around as she finally got to her feet from off the ground and was attempting to brush some of the mud from her chest and arms.

He spoke as he turned, "Really sorry about shooting at you princess but I did not see that it was--". As he finally got full view of Sophia he immediately erupted into roars of laughter that sent him keeling backwards.

"My God, Sophia what are you wearing?!" He wheezed out and reeled forward over the side of the wagon to get a better look at her.

Sophia, after having the worst journey of her entire life was not about to be laughed at by this boy she had grown up with. Swinging her muddy hand up, she slapped Lamont around the head with as much strength as she possessed. "Shut-up, Lamont! I am by far a better bowman then you and I will shoot you through your foot if you say another thing about what I am wearing!"

No one spoke for a moment and then, without cause, all four men erupted into laughter. Sophia stood with her back rigid and crossed her arms, putting on a face of such irritation that it almost overshadowed the mud that caused her to look ridiculous.

Chip made a huge attempt not to look at Sophia because then she would think he had surrendered and he wasn't about to do that anytime soon. Slapping his leg he looked at his brothers with immense love. "You both are imbeciles, you know that right? I can't believe you would just start shooting at random people. What have they been teaching you in the guard while I was gone."

Armand looked up at his older brother with a firm smile. "Well, we won't have to do it anymore. The chancellors are arriving--" Armand suddenly shot an alarmed look at Christian as if he had just remembered something important. "Christian! That's right! The chancellors are arriving in the next couple of days to speak with the Queen. They want her to come to Paris to discuss the terms of the crown! Oh, and you arriving just before them is going to stir up a bloody hornets nest!"

Christian didn't hear another word out of Armand's mouth except the one that spoke of his Queen. Snatching a hold of the boy's tunic he pulled him close and looked him strait in the eye. "Belle, she's alright?"

Armand nodded his head quickly. "Of course. Well, as all right as anyone can be when they've had their husband declared dead. She had to when none of the search parties could locate a rumor of where you were. Then when those villagers came out of the forest squalling that they had killed the king, well…."

Christian felt a hand tug on his insides and twist them out of shape. Oh, his poor Belle. How much worse it must have been for her then he and how he had not been able or smart enough to think of a way of letting her know he was all right. He had wanted to ask the boys about her from the second he realized it was them shooting at him but after their sad news about Dinsmore he was petrified that their lack of shouting about Belle meant that she was added to the pile of Christian's sorrows. The fact that she still breathed air and spoke words was enough to make him dizzy after such worry that he immediately made an attempt to push himself up. Chip grabbed hold of Christian's arm and helped him balance to his good foot and then held him steady as Christian scanned the horizon as if to see the fortress better.

Armand grimaced as he studied Christian's face. It was still a little swollen and the bruises had begun to heal which gave his features drastic color changes that were reminiscent of a toddler with a pallet of paints consisting only of blacks, browns, purples and a sallow yellow. And from the looks of the braces strapped to the leg his master wasn't using, Armand could plainly see that it had been broken and then set. Must have been painful, he thought.

"You look…terrible." He said frankly to Christian's upturned face. "Are you sure they didn't actually kill you again?"

Christian chuckled a little and then looked down at the boy at his feet. "It is entirely possible." Then quickly changing topics he continued. "Listen, I want you both to run as fast as you can to the fortress. Sound the alarm, go and find Belle. Tell them that I am coming and that I want them to come out and meet me."

Lamont and Armand smiled broadly and shouted a firm "Yes, Sire!" Both barreled out of the wagon and Lamont gave out a shrill whistle. Bursting from the forest came Lamont's horse that by some miracle had been brought along on the journey. She responded to his very calls as she had been trained to do and it made such things as crawling around in threes allot easier for him when his horse was nearby, as he needed her. She nipped at his heals pleasantly but allowed him to mount her quickly and without another word both Potts boys raced off over the hill towards the fortress.

Christian held out his arms and helped his daughter back into the bed of the wagon. Once she was carefully positioned on top of the pile of blankets and bedrolls Christian turned himself around and with a commanding tone, gazed right at Chip. "As fast as you can, get us to that fortress!"

Chip let out a hearty laugh and whipped the tired horses hard. They would be able to stop and rest for a good long while, after they arrived to where they were going. Before the fortress came into full view the large bell in the tower was being sounded so that it reverberated loudly all over the trees in the area and caused every bird within range to take flight. As soon as they broke free of the line of greenery and came over the last hill, Constantine fortress was displayed out in front of them. It was an old crumbling pile of rock that sat upon a hill and looked as if one good kick would bring the entire structure toppling down. It had a moat and several underground tunnels that would spit you out into the middle of the forest.

Christian grinned foolishly as the gates were flung open and a dozen or so riders kicked and pushed to be the first to get out. A few dozen more were shoving through, as there was a loud shout that rose up among the riders. Christian couldn't understand what they were saying because the bells in the tower were drowning out the voices but then, suddenly, a gap formed and horses backed up clumsily trying to make room for a single rider to fly through.

Christian could barely see her as she urged her horse forward. She must have leapt upon it without getting her footing because she was hardly astride the animal in a large gown that was completely unsuitable for riding. Christian wondered if she knew that the very horse carrying her was the same Arabian filly he had named 'Sophia' a few weeks ago.

He laughed out loud as she made no attempt to be ladylike, her hair whipping behind her in a mass of brown strands worth more then gold. Both her bodyguards stayed on either side of her as the rest of the riders came spilling out of the castle, some even carrying flags. Behind them an invariable army of servants and guard members, without horses, were running out of the castle to come and greet their king. The whole group looked like they had all dropped whatever they were doing the moment they had heard the alarm. It was a procession of the world's finest people led by a Goddess and Christian could only shake his head and laugh as he realized how pathetic he looked in his dirty farmer's clothing, riding along in the back of a wagon.

"Stop, Stop, Stop!" Christian ordered to Chip. The horses were forced to coming to a slippery halt as he scooted himself to the very back of the wagon and then kicked out hard with his good foot. The back swung off its hinge and Christian pulled his crutches along with him as he hopped to the ground on his toes. Then twisting the crutches out from underneath him he looked up to see Belle pull her horse to a stop and slide off the animal a little less then gracefully as her skirts shimmied up around her knees and then tumbled back around her feet. She wore no cloak and her hair swam around her face as the wind picked it up and tossed it into her eyes. She wasn't that far away from him but she made as if to take off running as soon as she had found her footing on the wet ground. All around them people were screaming and tossing their arms into the air, calling out Christian's name, laughing and crying at the same time. Belle, on the other hand, looked as if she was about to faint and Christian held up a hand, gripping the crutch with his elbow. "No," he called out to her loudly over the din. "No, let me come to you!"

When his voice was heard, almost everyone stopped their cheering and watched with awe and astonishment as their King slowly began to make his way across the lumpy, mud- filled ground on a pair of crutches. He was doing his best to keep from slipping and falling onto his backside and narrowly escaped doing so several times. It was slow agonizing work and Christian keenly felt all eyes on him, but he only kept his own on her.

When it finally came to a point that he was six or so paces away from her he stopped and could not move any further. Her face was flushed from her sudden departure from whatever room she had been in at the time and her beautiful soft cheeks were covered in tears as they flowed down like rain. She shook her head over and over not able to stop staring at him, as he could not stop staring at her. Christian parted his lips as if to speak but not a sound would escape him and he sucked in air is if it was his last. Oh, she was so beautiful to see. And how deeply he had needed to see her that he drank in the vision of her like a man dying of thirst.

Belle saw him struggle for words and her lips trembled uncontrollably. She pressed her hands over her mouth to stop the sob of every emotion that was welling up inside her. He was here. How it was possible, she would never be able to understand. God must surely love her very much to have given her so many miracles in her life. She had also never once in their lifetime together seen him look so filthy either. His hair was a tangled mess around his head and he was donning clothing she could only assume he had taken from a poor farmer. But there was something else about him that was different. A look in his eyes that made her see a wildness he had curbed for so many years. Like a thoroughbred stallion that had escaped, and in the wilderness, gone feral. It was beautiful and… a little bit frightening.

With a handsome smile that radiated over his face he held out his hands to indicate that he wanted her in them and she didn't hesitate for a moment. Rushing the small expanse between them she thrust herself onto him, not caring that he might tip over. He let go of his left crutch and crushed her to him with one arm. Pressing his face into her hair, a cry of joy came out of his mouth and she shook uncontrollably into his chest.

"Oh Christian, Christian, Christian…" she murmured as she ran her hands along his chest and arms. Reaching a hand up to his face she touched her fingers to his cheek and over his mouth attempting to somehow convince herself that he was real. Oh, the pain of having him ripped away from her, the agony of so many days spent not knowing if he was dead or alive, and the sorrow of mourning his loss after she believed he must truly be gone and her not ever having the chance to hold him one more time. It was too much for her and she wasn't sure how she would take another breath if she were to open her eyes and he not be there.

"You're alive…" she whispered, feeling the long stubble that lined his jaw and cheeks. It was beautiful and rough and she tangled her hands through his hair and over his ears letting the emotional memory take over. He smiled at her. Really smiled at her and gripped her harder as if he would never let her go.

"So are you…" he whispered back and breathed in the scent of her hair, her skin, her tears, and her breath. They smelled of summertime and soft embraces and love. So much love that it overwhelmed him.

"You came back and you're here!" She said gripping him hard around his ribcage. "How is this possible?" she asked, wanting to hear him speak more. Words would help her confirm that he wouldn't disappear into some dream.

Looking into her eyes he knew what he wanted to do but he also had something he needed to tell her. Something that would answer her question in the best way he knew how. If the entire journey had been senseless, it still would have been worth it to him because it made him realize that no matter what, these words needed to be said. Nothing else had kept him going, nothing else could match it in importance.

He squared his shoulders and gazed down at her longingly. "I had to come back." He murmured, unsure if his voice would sound as strong as he wanted it to. "I forgot to tell you something. I was a stupid fool for forgetting and I let you walk out that door the last time I saw you and I knew I should have told you then but I didn't. And Belle, I don't care what else happens to me but I had to get back here to tell you and nothing in Heaven or Hell is going to keep you from hearing it."

She looked up at him in confusion and was sure she didn't have any idea what he was talking about. "What did you need to tell me?"

Christian bit his lip and placed the hand he wasn't using to hold up the crutch that was still keeping him steady, upon the side of her neck and wrapped his fingers around the back of her head. He looked at her so intensely, almost hawk like, and paused for a moment as if making sure her attention was entirely on him. He needn't have worried if that was the case. Her entire attention had been on him since the first day she laid eyes on him.

"I love you too." He whispered so softly that the wind almost stole the words away before they hit her ears. But she heard them and they filled her soul to the very brim. Her heart started to beat once again after being long dead, thinking her life was over when she had no Christian to complete her story. He loved her. He came back to tell her that he loved her.

She remembered now, walking out the door of the West Wing and telling him that she loved him. He hadn't echoed the words and at the time she had not given them a second thought. But it had burned a hole in Christian that took being nearly killed and drug clear across the countryside in a wagon with a broken leg and a pair of bickering adolescence for him to figure out how stupid he was. And when he said that he wouldn't be stopped on his way to telling her, he meant it. The devil himself would not have been able to stop Christian.

Belle opened her mouth for just a moment and then pressed her toes into the soft ground. She didn't give her husband a moment to hesitate but reached his mouth with hers and pressed her lips to his own. Christian's first reaction was to feel a little cheated. He had wanted to shock her with their first kiss in over six year and here she was beating him to it. But this silly thought melted almost immediately as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers into his messy hair. Her mouth parted and pulled him in soul, heart, and mind and he loved her for it. He kissed her so softly, so tenderly and moved his mouth to keep her lips safely locked away against to his own. She was crying quietly and the tears fell into his mouth and splashed on his tongue when he realized that hers were not the only tears present between them. His face was covered in them and they blended together in a mixture of relief and joy. The servants were all crying around their master and mistress as well, and now that Cogsworth had arrived, having gotten the gist of what was happening, blew his nose noisily into his handkerchief.

Christian for a wistful moment, wished he had never stopped saying it. It would always remain true but he wished that he had never let her think for a moment that he didn't. He loved her. He would always love her. No matter what she did or where she went, whom she was with or how she lived, he would love her.

And regardless of what had happened in the past or what would inevitably happen in the future, what he would have to do to finish making everything all right, his love for her would extend beyond the grave and into eternity. And for just a fleeting moment, though it made him feel traitorous, he felt like this kiss was making all that had happened between them in the last six years worth it.

He had traveled a journey that lasted almost two weeks, been changed into a beast, was beaten to a bloody pulp, left for dead, changed back into a human, and then forced his battered body across the French countryside battling his demons and his daughter every step of the way. And in this moment he would do it all over again a thousand times for her. He determined right then and there that he would make things right by her if it took him to the very ends of the earth to do so. But for right then, he simply kissed her, balancing on one foot and ignoring the pain that he felt all over his body. He kissed his wife and let her know that those four little words were true. He kissed her till she believed them.


	37. Belle

_Authors Note: Pretty self-explanatory. This and chapter thirty-eight were meant to be one chapter but it got too long so I split them up. It worked out really well that way and while this won't be anyone's favorite chapter it was actually rather entertaining to write, for some reason. Plus, it was long overdue! As I stated before, if you don't understand what's going on you are just going to have to read 'To Sleep Perchance to Dream Part V'. I'm a writer, and as such am not perfect. In fact, I'm not even sure I should give myself the title of writer because my writing does have allot of flaws. That's basically why I keep trying to correct pieces and chapters I've felt drag the story down. If anything reviews are helpful because they give me a heads up outside my own brain as to what works and what doesn't. While I don't particularly care for flamers I will gladly accept them. I'll even take good reviews too. _

_I have also had more then a few people ask me about Christian's name. It's been a while since anyone has read the first chapter so I'll debrief on the subject once again. I don't like the name Adam. I don't think it suits him. While many believe that that is his official name there has actually been no official statements and since the movie never actually gave the prince a name I chose my favorite boy name. I think it works for him and gives him charm. That doesn't mean you have to think so. Heck, if you want to copy and paste the entire story to a word document and replace every 'Christian' with whatever name you like. It won't hurt my feelings. That said. Love you and as always…review!_

**Song that Inspired this Chapter was "Do What You Have To Do" by Sarah McLachlan**

What ravages of spirit  
conjured this temptuous rage,  
created you a monster,  
broken by the rule of love?  
And fate has led you through it.  
You do what you have to do.

And I have the sense to recognize  
that I don't know how to let you go.

Every moment marked  
with apparitions of your soul.  
I'm ever swiftly moving,  
trying to escape this desire,  
the yearning to be near you.  
I do what I have to do.

A glowing ember, burning hot,  
AND burning slow.  
Deep within, I'm shaken by the violence  
of existing for only you.

I know I can't be with you.  
I do what I have to do.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Belle

Belle was furious with Christian. She was angry with Sophia, too, but the problem with that was Sophia was her child. Her headstrong, unbridled, stubborn-as-hell, daughter who had been quite lost to her mother for weeks. She also believed that Sophia didn't understand the demands she was making or she wouldn't make them. With this in mind, the person she was absolutely furious with was Christian. Sophia was still a child to Belle; Christian should know better.

Upon arrival they had to all but carry him to a room that had been immediately vacated by Cogsworth for him to rest. He had fallen onto the bed and slept for two days strait only getting up to go to the loo. During this time Sophia had informed her mother of some deranged arrangement that had been made out in the woods about Sophia's status as a princess. Apparently she had been given permission to renounce her title and work as a servant for the rest of her life. Despite the fact that Belle was delirious with happiness to have her daughter and her husband back with her, she was not stopped from having the strangest argument in the history of their family, with Sophia. The girl raged and cried and attempted to sleep in the servant's quarters and do their chores for them. When her mother forbade her to do any such thing, the argument began to get ugly. Not to mention Sophia still had not changed out of Chip's clothing and returned them to him. The chill that blew in between the two young people, whenever Chip entered the room, could freeze hell. And for the life of her, Belle could not persuade the boy to tell her why. From the time he was little he had always told Belle everything. Now here he was, so very changed from that child she knew, refusing to explain to his queen what had happened on their journey, or even why Sophia was wearing his clothing in the first place. Not that Belle was angry at _that_ idea all that much. She rather envied Sophia for her escape of the usual corset and her ability to move about so freely in Chip's trousers. She toyed with the idea of wearing a pair herself and wondered what Christian would say.

And now here they were with Sophia blatantly discarding her upbringing and her heritage to turn herself into a servant. Belle wondered if it was some sort of reverse in the Cinderella story.

After quite a few angry words between Belle and her daughter, which also resulted in Chip throwing his opinion in against the princess, Sophia cried for her father. Of anything, this shocked Belle the most. She was certain Sophia had not called for her father's help on anything since…since the twins were born, at least. What happened to these three out in the woods? It was something Belle was decided to get to the bottom of. After a little more shouting ensued, Belle came to the conclusion that Christian really _should_ be a part of this. It was his mess after all; he could work it out.

Breaking her resolve to just let him sleep, Belle trooped up to the west corridor of the fortress where Christian's stay room was located. Sophia was positioned between Belle and Cogsworth, with Lumiere taking up the rear and Babette on his arm. Perhaps she was overacting just a tad but Belle was in no mood for any more of these arguments. This was a time to be celebrating and preparing for departure back to Rose Castle. The Chancellors had arrived from Paris to find that their king wasn't in fact dead, after all. Belle was actually looking forward to squelching down Christian's frighteningly ambitious family, every person vying for their claim to his throne.

With a powerful knock, Belle rapped her knuckles against the wood. When no answer was heard she turned her head over her shoulder toward Cogsworth and gave a look that told him not to follow her for a moment.

Opening the door she stepped in and looked around the shabby room. Larger then most in the fortress, it still stank of urine and moldy straw and more layers of dust and grime then Belle had ever seen. She was surprised to see that Christian wasn't actually asleep, as she had supposed. Instead her eyes alighted on his figure sitting in the windowsill of the room, his broken leg propped up along the ledge. He looked over at her with those large bright blue eyes that always seemed to capture her. Not appearing to be quite in the room with her, she took a step in his direction and wondered what it was he could have been looking at out those windows that would make his eyes seem so very sad. But the moment passed and he gave her a wan smile.

"How are you today?" He asked without moving from his spot at the window.

For a moment she wanted to smile back, to tell him her day was perfect and that she was simply here because she wanted to look at his handsome face. All right, bruised face, but to Belle it was still handsome. Except that she knew she had four very anxious people waiting for her out in the corridor and stalling would only bring an interruptive knock from Cogsworth. With a sigh she downed her smile and gave her husband a knowing look.

"We need to speak with you, your highness." She said to him pointedly.

Christian looked at her, confused. "We?"

Belle nodded and then turned around to open the door. The princess and all three of the heads of house entered the room looking more then a little nervous. Still Christian did not remove himself from the windowsill, which Belle found even more peculiar then the fact that he was sitting there in the first place. Perched as he was, he looked like an exhausted bird preparing to once again take flight.

In less then five minutes the entire issue was laid out before him. Sophia made several motions to go stand next to him, but a soft glance in her direction every time stopped her. She could tell he was not happy with her anymore then the rest of the group was. Except that, to her relief, he did not contradict himself and take back the promise he had made in the woods. He calmly confirmed to the group that the decision was made and that was that. Belle gave him a withering look that she reserved only for very dire occasions. He did not shrink from it, merely gave her those same doleful eyes he had when she entered the room.

"Christian! This is our daughter! Do you really want to see her scrubbing out chamber pots!" Belle shouted at him in dismay.

Sophia gulped, having not thought of chamber pots as an option. Christian shook his head and sighed deeply at his wife. Then finally shifted his weight, he took a ginger step onto the floor of the room and carefully put his crutches underneath himself.

"No, Belle. I don't wish to see that, but I have given Sophia my word and I will not take it back." Then taking a step towards her she held very still as he looked down at her face tenderly, but sadly. "I am sorry for the sorrow it will cause you, but you are just going to have to trust my judgment."

Belle half expected him to kiss her again, but he didn't. He merely patted her shoulder gently and maneuvered himself about towards the door. It was an awful feeling. He didn't explain himself, he didn't discuss the matter with her in private, the whole of this conversation had lasted ten minutes and now he had had his say and there was nothing she could do to change the situation. It was one of those moments where she hated being a woman because she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that his say was final. Still, she had not believed Christian would ever go as far as making one of their children a servant. Nothing about it sounded right and she wondered how long she should wait before she brought the issue up again.

With a glance over his shoulder at Belle, he turned his gaze onto Sophia. "And you, I told you that you would begin your work when we arrive back at Rose Castle. Not before. And until you are formally employed and your title as been renounced, you will do exactly as your mother says. I am making arrangements for you and you should have trusted me when I said I would, instead of taking matters into your own hands. Am I understood?"

Sophia cast her eyes to the ground and nodded her head somberly, taking her fathers reprimand with humility. "Yes, Sire" she answered without looking back up at him.

Christian then turned his back on her and gave Lumiere a look that indicated he wanted to be followed.

"Come," he said to his butler "I'm hungry."

Cogsworth and Lumiere nodded. "We could bring you something, instead of you going down those horrible staircases." Cogsworth said, while having mental images of Christian tumbling headfirst down a spiral staircase that led to the dining hall with his crutches clattering behind him.

Christian shook his head. "No, I need to get out of this room. How did you stand it for this whole week Cogsworth? It smells like someone died in here."

There was laughter that echoed down the hallway from the major-domo as Christian continued.

"Besides, I hear the giant boars head still hangs on the wall in the dining hall. It's supposed to follow you with its eyes right before something unfortunate happens."

Belle rolled her eyes at this, being glad her husband didn't carry an affinity for hanging animal heads in their home. If he did, she would fear he would take that awful boar's head home with him.

"Zat is what zey say. Zough I 'ave not seen it do anyzing but look atrocious so far." Lumiere replied to Christian's words. There was more laughter as they walked out further down the corridor and away from her.

Belle felt hurt. He had just walked away from her. After all that happened he was just going to walk away and not continue their argument further. For a moment this was extremely perturbing to Belle. Then she stopped because it suddenly made sense to her. He didn't want to argue. Look what happened to him the last time they had a major argument. Perhaps that wasn't his reasoning, but Belle could believe that it had plenty of influence. And to be honest, she truly didn't want to argue with him either. She wanted him to be reasonable. She wanted him to communicate with her. She wanted him to…. kiss her again. She wondered if he was angry about their kiss. He hadn't seemed so, unless by kissing her with his entire mouth was his new way of indicating he was angry with her.

Belle was so tired of this wall between them. Was nothing going to bring it down? She could see he was hurting. Why wouldn't he let her help him? He had before, what was wrong now? Perhaps if she cornered him, spoke to him soothingly, invited him to her room…

Belle immediately reprimanded herself for such thoughts. She would not make attempts to seduce her husband. She had more dignity then that. He had made it very clear he was not interested in those things with her any longer and she would respect him. He told her he loved her and she believed him with all her heart. That was enough for her.

Yes, Belle was furious with Christian. But for Belle, furious really meant worried. Worried and frustrated and lonely, so very lonely.

"Come along, Sophia." She murmured after a few moments of silence in Christian's rooms. "Lets go and get you changed into something more suitable. Chip will need his clothes returned soon anyways."

Sophia nodded and followed Babette out the door, as she had remained behind after the men had left. Belle for a moment hesitated and then turned around and went to the window Christian had been sitting at. Pressing her hands to the dirty, cracked glass she looked down below the window ledge at the grounds where Christian had been looking.

Right beneath this very room was the fortress cemetery where the soldiers who had died were laid to rest. In amongst the tombs was a very pathetic looking little stone structure that would barely pass for a mausoleum. Covered in moss and ivy it had not been tended to in many years but Belle could still see the inscription on the lintel of the door. Or at least she pretended she could. She traced the name onto the windowpane with her finger and sighed sadly at what she had clearly interrupted when she had just barged into her husband's rooms. As if to hide a very precious secret she whispered a prayer in the direction of the cemetery and hoped that the spirit of Christian's long dead mother would continue to rest and that her memory would no longer follow him with it's sadness and grief. Then for good measure she wiped away the name of Mandolin out of the dirt on the glass and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

* * *

Christian was slowly making his way down the corridor. For the last three days, after the issue of Sophia's royalty had been discussed, things had gone fairly smoothly. He was feeling much better after getting several proper nights sleep and more or less good food in his stomach. They were scheduled to leave the following morning and would arrive at Rose Castle within a week or so. Christian had spent the better part of the three days with the Chancellors from Paris. They peppered him with questions and a good deal of shouting went on as Christian gave them less then satisfactory answers. Deals were made and he was already preparing his mind for a six months journey to Paris and all across France to try and undo some of the mess that was made from his "death" and then miraculous "resurrection". He promised to leave no later then a week after his family was once again settled in their home and with that he sent the men on their way to go and appease his father's family waiting in Paris for him. The trickiest part was divvying out the punishment for the villagers who had attacked Rose Castle. He had to sound harsh without actually being harsh or people would cease to take him seriously. Time in prison, a few lashes and a heavy fine were placed on all and even then Christian felt like a tyrant. These men were absolute fools but they weren't really murderers. Or at least that's what Christian rationalized as he gave the orders. He would be criticized but there just wasn't much else he could do for the situation without talking to the men personally and well, that might not even help. The real person to ask about these men's intentions was the Enchantress and as far as he knew she wasn't going to come to call just because he ordered her to. He knew this from experience.

After all this was said and done, Christian had one more thing to do. He wanted to do it here. He had a vague hope that if he finished out the unpleasantness at Constantine, then perhaps it could be left where it was told. It was wishful thinking but it was the best he could muster. He hated doing this. He hated that after everything, after all the horrible, awful things that had happened between him and his wife, he now had to hand her another blow that could very well ruin their marriage. This could quite easily be the last nail in the coffin for her and if it was, well…. then he was in serious trouble. But he was resolved to do what was needed and he rested on the fact that Belle was smarter then him. She was filled with a thousand more good qualities then he was and he believed that she would be able to fix their problem.

He was also bringing Cogsworth and Lumiere along with him. If anything, they had a knack for making situations less abrasive. Or so Christian believed.

With the soberest of moods, he approached the corridor where Belle's chambers resided. He would have known his way to this corridor in his sleep. The essence of his mother permeated the very stones. He didn't like the idea Belle sleeping in Mandolin's bed. It was morbid to him and made his quest to tell her the truth more insistent. He would not let her become his mother even if it wasn't by hanging that she would leave him. He would rescue her. But in the process that just might mean he would have to let her hate him for what happened between them. Both Cogsworth and Lumiere did not agree with this, though.

"Sire, is this really necessary?" Cogsworth huffed after ascending the staircase to the second floor.

Christian didn't bother to glance back at him. "Yes Cogsworth, this is really necessary."

"Perhaps if you gave us a logical explanation why, though…"

Christian glared towards the direction he was headed. "I already told you why." He answered shortly.

"Zis is going to break 'er 'eart. Don't you zink she 'as been zrough enough?"

Christian stopped and pushed down on the rungs of his crutches. Turning his body around, he faced his advisors with sadness, but determination.

"I have to do this because if I don't, it will never be fixed. I am tired of living a broken life with her. We did not go through the curse from Hell so that our lives could be torn apart by _this_. I have been selfish for too long and if I don't tell her, she'll always wonder. She's too smart to just up and forget that for the last six years we have been strangers to one another."

Both men stood and did not know what to say. It had become such a monumental issue to Christian that things had finally caught up with him.

"It was so long ago, master. Does it really matter all that much anymore?"

Christian paused for a moment and then made a very solemn face. "No. What happened does not matter at all. But _she_ matters, she deserves to know."

And with that Christian reached a hand out and knocked on Belle's door. A maid answered promptly and Christian looked inside the large room to see his wife standing next to a table that was set for afternoon tea. She looked curiously as Christian, Cogsworth, and Lumiere all entered the room without a word and dismissed the maids and ladies that had all come for tea. This did not alert Belle to any strangeness. Maids and ladies come and go like butterflies. And for just a moment, Christian studied her. She was very beautiful, he would always think so, but today, as like all the days she had been at Constantine, she was dressed in borrowed clothing. In their escape from Rose Castle Belle had not had time to pack. Upon arrival at the fortress she had been swathed in what could be found and that just happened to be a trunk full of dresses that had been left up in the loft of the tower. They were disgustingly old and moth-eaten and so out of fashion it was laughable, but they kept her clothed and that was what mattered at the moment.

Christian had no stirring of desire for his wife when she wore the dresses of his dead mother. In fact he was almost glad to see her in them for they would keep his mind from becoming clouded with her face, her hair, her chest, her scent. He could think to tell her what he came here to tell her and then when they got home he would ensure that an entire new wardrobe was put together for her in hopes that no traces of his mother's terrible life were left on her perfect skin.

Belle curtsied elegantly in her ill-fitting attire and even gave the three a small smile. "Your Grace." She murmured as if she had been expecting them all along. All three men bowed politely in return, though it was a little less impacting for Christian as he still had his crutches under his arms.

She gestured to the table next to her. "Would you like some tea?"

Christian shook his head and gave something of a half-smile. He liked this formality she displayed when they were in official situations but he much preferred her when she was candid. It was realistic and the reason he fell in love with her.

Taking a huge breath he decided that it was his turn to be candid.

"Belle, I need to tell you some things."

A quizzical eyebrow was raised and some of the formality was dropped. "What kinds of things?"

"Important things. Things I should have told you right away. Would you please sit down?"

For a moment she didn't comply. Her eyes raked him over, trying to discern the seriousness of their situation. Then with a nod she resumed her seat at the table and gazed up at him expectantly.

He took a ginger step in her direction so that Cogsworth and Lumiere were merely in the background behind him.

"I want to first apologize to you for not having told you about Sophia the moment I arrived here. I should have discussed it with you first but there were extenuating circumstances behind my actions. Still, I would hope that you know how sorry I am that it caused you frustration."

Belle sat still for several moments after this act of contrition. Was this really Christian that was speaking to her? Again the image of him when he had first arrived at Constantine flashed through her mind. How different he had seemed inwardly and outwardly. Clearly something had happened to him and it had somehow brought back the same wonderful husband she had once known.

With a small nod she accepted his apology. "I accept." She murmured then, feeling like something needed to be said, "And…I trust you. I just…wish I understood what happened to you three. Is this arrangement with Sophia going to be permanent?"

Christian gave a sardonic smirk and quirked an eyebrow. "She thinks so…"

Belle cocked her head to the side suspiciously. "What does that mean?"

"It means that when she's ready to stop punishing herself, we will come up with a different solution."

Belle nodded her head, beginning to see the wisdom in this. A long silence reigned after this. She watched as Christian wrestled with himself over whatever else he had come here to say. She began to fidget, wanting to comfort him, or somehow make this easier but had no clue exactly how to do so.

Finally, taking a deep breath, he looked strait into her face. "I need to explain something to you. Something I should have a long time ago."

Belle sat frozen in her seat. She had been quiet. She had allowed him to talk himself into silence. She had not risen or argued as he shifted his weight from toes to heel, nor followed him around the room as he made an attempt to pace. She had merely sat and listened.

All the horrid details of six years prior spilled out of him like an overturned fountain. He spared her nothing, but explained every little shard of emotion and reasoning he had used over the years to rationalize his actions. He did not excuse himself; made his own guilt for her condition clear.

The silence stretched on and on. She wasn't entirely sure what emotion she was feeling. Was it possible for emotions to melt together into one large heartbreak that consumes you? If it was, then she wasn't sure if that was even what she was feeling. It occurred to her that she needed to speak. His eyes were begging her to say something and they made him seem so young. So vulnerable to her.

Not trusting herself, she stood and took a few steps around the opposite side of the table. Numbness was being pervaded by her first natural reaction.

"This is why, isn't it?" She finally said, more evenly then she felt. "This is why you came to my room that day and told me you wanted to be separated."

Christian winced at the memory and then nodded his head. "Yes…." A long pause followed. "I wanted to talk to you about it so many times."

It was a strange sensation to erupt into anger, as Belle had never done so before. She felt like someone had struck a flint and set her on fire. Her eyes narrowed in irritation and she turned her body towards his with startling swiftness.

"What is that supposed to mean? If you had wanted to speak with me about this you would have. I have been here the whole time and no one has breathed a word about this! I don't remember saying any of those things you say that I said! I don't remember any of it!"

Christian seemed to be groping for something to calm her with. It was a sad truth that he had never worked well under pressure.

"Of course you don't remember it. You were delirious with fever!"

Belle's eyes flashed daggers as he trailed dangerously close to her touchiest subject.

"I am NOT crazy!"

Realizing his mistake he took a step backwards. "Of course not. I do not think you are crazy. You were sick Belle. You…. you…were dieing…."

Something about the agony in his voice from his last sentence struck Belle forcefully. She shook her head as if to clear it.

"I don't believe any of this. I would remember. I would remember wanting to die… and I will always recognize my children. No matter how sick I am. It isn't true! It is _not_ true…. is it?"

She abruptly looked to Cogsworth and then to Lumiere. She was furious with Christian, but surely they wouldn't lie to her.

Cogsworth looked at her with obvious pain and Lumiere bit his lip.

"Mistress…." He began feeling helpless, wishing Christian had done this alone. "You were very sick. No one wanted to see you 'urting anymore. No one 'ere zinks you are crazy or zat you do not love your children. We took your Bébés away from you and zere is not a day zat goes by zat we do not blame ourselves."

Belle felt like her lungs were collapsing. How could any of this be real? For a moment she struggled for breath and in that moment she looked at her husband. It was a strange moment and her anger and hurt were greatly clouding her judgment. Why had he chosen to tell her now, after all these years? What was his motivation in making her feel this way? She had not realized in its entirety the kinds of things Christian was capable of, but she bitterly reminded herself that she should have. Still, to see her husband, her husband of seventeen years who had loved her and cherished her, provided for her and her own father, given her three beautiful children, as anything but wonderful felt like a kick in the gut. How could this have happened and he not tell her? How could he have just walked away?

Mouth dry, she voiced the only things that would come to her. "It is true…. isn't it? I couldn't remember giving birth to Paris and Jean-Luc and you told me it was because I was sick and had slept for those months when…in reality…I was dieing and I had no idea the trouble I was causing you…"

Christian's mouth opened in shock at her words. How had she come to _that_ conclusion? This wasn't how it was supposed to be, he was trying to apologize, trying to make things right by her and instead…he was hurting her _more_. What could he do to help her? How could be retrace his steps to restart this terrible journey?

When he did not speak she could only continue because, for reasons she could not understand, she needed him to know how much pain this caused her. There had to be no doubts in his mind.

"You let me believe it was me…. And I did, Christian. I did believe that I had done something wrong…You told me you no longer desired me and that you no longer wished us to be close and I believed that you no longer loved me!" Her voice was near shouting and she clenched her fists to her bodice as she allowed the words to be spoken for the first time. She had hidden these fears from him because she did not want to see him hurt. Her greatest wish, as well as greatest folly, was that she would love him and wish him well despite anything and everything.

"You let me cry myself to sleep for years and years and you never did anything! You left me here and it was all I could do to get up in the morning and you not be there with me! You told me this was how it had to be and I believed you and I…You told me…. And I trusted you…"

Christian's heart was being crushed. It was more then he was capable of to take two steps towards her and tell her the truth. Tell her the only thing he knew how to tell her.

"Belle…. I lied. I lied because I could not bare to see you hurt."

Without warning, Belle slapped him. He was near enough that she didn't have to reach far and she had never come close to hitting him before so he had not expected it. It was not, nor ever would be, a part of her character. Her hands were not very big, nor her strength all that impressive so it couldn't have physically hurt him all that much. Still, Belle immediately reeled back from her actions and pulled her hand up to her chest and held it there, looking at Christian in horror.

"I'm sorry…Christian, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" She stammered as an angry mark spread across his cheek.

"It's alright." He murmured, but everyone in that room knew that it wasn't. All understood that under no other circumstances would he have tolerated being hit.

Belle finally started to cry. She felt both ashamed of her actions and damaged by his words. Lied to her? That was what hurt the most. She wept noisily into her hands and heard him take a step in her direction. When his fingers graced her shoulder she pulled away immediately.

Looking up into his eyes, she shook her head. "Please…. Just leave. I need to be alone."

A sigh that would bring Heaven down, came from Christian's chest but he nodded his head glumly and turned towards the door, his advisors preparing to follow. Without thinking, he twisted his body around so that he could see her face.

"Belle…. I really do love you. You know that, don't you?"

Pressing her lips together she had a horrible lurching urge to rush at him and press her face to his chest and allow him to hold her as she wept, but she didn't.

"Yes," she answered quietly. "I do know. I love you too."

Christian looked down to the ground and struggled for breath. Then turned his gaze to her, his face once again childlike in it's pleading.

"Do you still need me?"

She stood for a moment remembering how those words had affected him in the West Wing. It felt like a lifetime ago. Belle understood keenly how much he needed to hear her say it. She knew that of everything that happened he would not be able to go on if he thought she did not love him anymore. What he had done was crippling to their marriage, yes, but was it worth hurting him? Not at all.

"Yes, I will always need you."

Letting out a breath that could almost be distinguished as a sigh of relief he turned his back on her and walked out the door, allowing Cogsworth to shut it behind him.


	38. Memories of a Beast

_Authors Note: As stated in the last chapters note this chapter was a split. But after I wrote it I also realized that it was the twin sister of Chapter two and so I entitled it "Memories of a Beast". ( Get it? Like "Memories of Sophia-Belle" only it's a different memory and it's from Belle's point of view and….yeah you get it….)_

_I have been using allot of memories in this story and frankly I haven't found the plot-device terribly damaging. I think it gives the story depth. As you will see from this point on things tend to circle around themselves as I had always intended them to. _

_I'm very clever that way._

_(Voice inside head, "No you're not!")_

_Not even a little bit?_

_(Voice, "No!")_

_Oh…suck! Okay…. Well… Hope you like the chapter and the memory. I tried really hard to make it realistic to the movie. OH and by the way if For You Blue or anyone else that reads her work reads this I did not steal your hunting animals idea. I actually have thought the same thing for years and have been waiting to incorporate it into my story. It's an interesting dynamic that I liked, but as you will see I didn't elaborate on it nearly as much. I am not a copycat_

_(Voice, "Yes, you are!")_

_Okay well, I might be a little bit of a copycat, but not from other people's fics, just from Disney Movies…. And as you can see I hear voices in my head and so I'm off to get some therapy! Toodles! P.S. Review or I'll just have the voice to listen to and as you can tell…she's not very nice._

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Memories of a Beast**

**

* * *

**Belle sat underneath the window. Her legs were pulled up to her chest and she rested her chin on her knees. She hated Constantine. It was an ugly place and she loathed the idea of Christian growing up here. It wasn't any wonder to her now why he rarely spoke of his childhood. In the week she had stayed here she had been plagued constantly with nightmares and it hadn't been a few hours before arriving that she had required no less then three ladies to come and sleep with her at night. She was far too embarrassed to admit it but she was absolutely terrified of sleeping inside a dead queen's room alone. Every wisp of the wind, or creek of the stairs led her to believe the whole establishment was haunted. Even now as she sat on the floor she wished Christian were there with her, if only to assure her that nothing bad would happen.

She counted seconds until six full minutes had ticked by. Six minutes that could feel like six years. A very real six years she had spent in the shadows of a life, with her marriage barely teetering on disaster. Now she wondered if they had finally tipped into said disaster. Six years was a very long time to hold in a lie like the one Christian had kept from her. It escaped her how he had managed it.

An hour went by as her thoughts swirled around and around. Her anger had ebbed away but she still hurt. Their lives were so complicated, perhaps because it consisted of two very complicated people. She laughed at herself for forgetting that very important concept.

Belle focused on her breathing. It was important to remember to breath in and out and allow her body to remain calm. Every time she found herself spinning out of control it brought up with it painful memories of confusion, hurt, abandonment, and loneliness.

As she continued to fill her lungs with oxygen, surrounded by the silence of her mother in laws room, things started to make a little more sense. Snippets of images flashed through her brain. Little things came into view that brought her back to the days after giving birth to the twins. She still could not actually remember the event. Something had happened that had caused her to black out. She was later told that she had stopped breathing and that the midwives had believed she had died. After that the next thing she could piece together was waking up in her room a few months later. She remembered feeling as weak as a kitten, mewing for care from her ladies and servants. Christian had rarely come to see her. She had always wondered about that, though now it made sense. He had been there with her for months during the sickness and had suffered hearing the strange delusional words that had come out of her mouth, plaguing him with guilt. He had endured the ridicule and the blame of her misfortune. Something that was entirely not his fault, he had made his fault. It had not been her fault either, she understood that, but her heart still felt pain for him.

In some ways, as would be natural, Belle was disappointed in her husband. He had run away like a little child from the pain and anguish. Instead of coming to her and telling her the truth, he had cut a jagged hole in the middle of the world and put himself on an island so that no one could touch him. He had believed beyond a shadow of a doubt he could prevent her from getting hurt by pushing her away and in reality it had only hurt her more.

Sometimes, Belle thought Christian was an idiot.

With the understanding that this was one of those times, the next question she posed herself with was how they were going to go about repairing this. Belle was absolutely sick of the whole affair and she was going to do everything in her power to fix this or die trying.

Yes, she was hurt, damaged, had been lied to and left alone for years but in the end she was still Belle. And Belle loved her Beast. Or was he her Prince? Or was it some strange combination of both? Or perhaps neither?

'_They are the same person, Belle.'_ Her intellectual brain informed her.

'_Yes,'_ She answered herself. _'Yes, he is still my everything. Even if he did do something incredibly stupid.'_

Belle sighed deeply and rubbed her face with her hands. She felt vulnerable and very alone, despite her epiphany and resolve to make things right. She was intelligent enough to know it would take more time then Christian had surely been hoping. She was very reminded of exactly how male he really was in this regard. He had this strange notion he had learned in his early adulthood, clinging to it most desperately, that if one apologizes, things will instantly become better. It probably stemmed from having to violently train his brain to learn _how_ to apologize to people for his actions. He had never become proficient at it but she had to at least be a little impressed that he would readily do so without being prompted.

'_He was trying to protect me.'_ She found herself thinking; though protect her from what she wasn't even certain _he_ knew. Something very bad happened and in retaliation he had done whatever he could to protect her. In a way this was most enduring to her and she understood keenly that it was a permanent part of his nature. He was protective of what was most important to him. Albeit, those things of importance had not always been good, but he was still protective of them. Belle felt that this in and of itself deserved praise. Despite the emotional damage it inflicted he had never once stopped protecting her. She had never been physically hurt or abandoned; if anything, it was her pride that was more wounded.

She wondered when she had realized this characteristic in him. It was definitely before they were married. A particular day after she had come to stay at Rose Castle, she was sure that was the memory. In the library because…everything good happens in the library. They had been reading a book, now that she was thinking about it. Yes, they had been reading when she realized this quality in him. If she remembered correctly it was his turn to read to her…..

* * *

The Beast held the book gently between his to paws, doing his best not to tear any pages.

_"The web of our life is of a m-mingled yarn,……. good and ill…. together: our virtues would be proud….. if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not ch-ch-ch-cherished by our…. own virtues."_

He read the words very slowly in hopes that he would be able to correct his mistakes before saying them. It was another of Shakespeare's plays, entitled 'All's Well that Ends Well'. They had been going through these dramas rapidly for weeks and though the Beast loved to hear Belle read, he did not particularly like this play. The young man Bertram turned his stomach sour, possibly because he had a sinking suspicion that he would have resembled the man greatly had he been given the chance to grow up as a human.

Without looking up from the book, he thought for a moment about what he had just read.

"_Belle,"_ he began, doing his best not to stutter, _"What does it mean to cherish someone?"_

When there was no answer he looked to see that Belle's eyes were closed. She wasn't really asleep but was tired enough that it took her a moment to realize that he was directing a question at her. She focused her brown irises on him steadily and this made him bashful but he did not turn away.

"_Hmm?"_ She finally murmured sleepily.

He shook his shaggy head. _"Nothing. You are very tired. I did not realize it was so late, you should already be in bed."_

Belle looked towards the window to see that it was quite dark outside. She was an early riser by nature and did not usually stay up this late into the night. Yawning loudly and stretching her beautiful thin arms over her head, she nodded.

Rising from his seat he set her book down on the nearby table that held a mountain of reading material to last them several years. Straitening his jacket he gave a very small smile that probably looked more like a grimace but it was the best he could do.

_"I will bid you good night. Sleep well."_

Belle immediately sat up and looked at him. _"Do you have to go?"_ She asked mildly.

A little stumped by this question he thought about it for a moment. _"No, I don't suppose I do. But…you should be sleeping and I would only keep you awake."_

"_Don't you need to go to bed as well?"_

He regarded her with those arrestingly human eyes. He was trying to determine whether he should answer her question, as it would reveal more about him to her then he wanted her to know. Finally her angelic face won over his hesitation.

_"No. I do not sleep at night. I have been taking naps throughout the afternoons so that I can be awake when you have time to spend with me. I would not be able to sleep at this hour if I tried."_

This was an interesting turn of events for Belle. She had not realized that he was doing anything special just to spend time with her. No one had ever done that before and it was both bewildering and humbling. Aside from the fact that she was here in the first place, she had made very little attempt to understand this creature she was living with, nor had altered her daily rituals to fit his lifestyle whatsoever. Though, it would have been hard if she had tried because he rarely spoke about himself to her.

She leaned back in her seat and thought about this for a moment. He watched and waited for her to say something. Thinking it was rather awkward for him to just stand there looming over her, he resumed his seat, thought it was rather uncomfortable. His body wasn't made very well for sitting in large over-stuffed chairs for long periods of time. It made the bone in his tail rather uncomfortable, as he had to bend it alongside his body at odd angles. Sometimes she would catch him twisting it around and swishing it back and forth in irritation, though he would pretend he was perfectly content. Doesn't he realize that he gives himself away?

Finally, not sure what she should say she looked down at her hands. _"I am not ready to go to bed."_

The Beast nodded at this, unsure what he was supposed to do. _"Would you like me to….."_ But his sentence trailed off, not sure how to end it. What did she want? She had asked him if he had to go, but did that mean she wanted him to stay? Did she want to be alone?

As if reading his mind she answered the expression on his face. _"I would like it if you stayed with me for a while, if you don't mind."_

"_Is there something you wish to stay up for?"_ He was finally able to ask.

Her cheeks colored at this and he backtracked over his words, wondering what it was that he had said to embarrass her. When she finally spoke it was softly as if she was forcing herself to admit something she would rather not.

_"I am frightened."_

The Beast's heart stopped as he was certain her next words were going to reveal that she was still frightened of him and that she thought he was going to hurt her, or something of the like. It was his natural conclusion to everything and he held his breath, waiting for her to crush what little hope he had begun to build up around himself.

_"The castle frightens me at night and I don't like being alone."_

For a moment time stood still as the Beast slowly released his breath, wondering if she had noticed he was holding it. _"It does?" _he asked incredulously.

She nodded her head, feeling foolish and childish for being afraid of the dark. She watched as his eyes softened and changed color to an even deeper shade of blue. He seemed to be studying her with those eyes when he finally found the words to speak.

_"I won't let anything happen to you. Nothing in this castle will ever hurt you, I promise."_

She suddenly felt very warm, and found that there was no doubt in her mind that he meant what he said. Nothing would happen to her, he would keep her safe. She had never had a friend like this before in her life and it made her wonder how she had not noticed such gentle, caring qualities in him. She blushed an even deeper shade of pink and then laughed a little at herself.

"_You must think me such a child, being __timorous of the silly dark."_

He shook his head. _"No, I don't blame you. This place is not very cheerful."_

She laughed again, only much more genuinely. _"No, not really." _She paused for a moment, wondering if this conversation was as enlightening for him as it was for her. She felt bonds growing between them that both worried and warmed her.

"_Are you afraid of anything?"_ Her words were timid and she again felt like she was treading dangerous waters with him, asking him of personal things that were none of her business.

He took his time answering, picking his words carefully. _"Yes."_

"_Of what?"_

He opened his mouth and then closed it, then opened it again and let the word slip out.

_"Everything."_

How silly it would seem to have the great and mighty Beast that people had been telling wild stories about for years admit to a tiny little inventor's daughter what he was afraid of. Sillier then that was that he confessed that he was afraid of 'everything'. If he had told anyone else but Belle they might have laughed at him.

She cocked her head to the side and considered his answer for a while. It was more what he wasn't telling her that she couldn't seem to glean from his expression. Things that he _wouldn't_ tell her. Not yet. He couldn't admit to her yet that he was afraid that she would and could leave him at any moment and how much that would rip him apart. He couldn't tell her how terrified he was of dieing alone, that he feared he would never get to feel the touch of a woman's lips, _her lips_, on his, afraid that he would never feel the sun on his skin, his human skin, again. So many terrors swirled around in his brain that they made his heart race, but he downed them. He had to be careful not to ruin this conversation or his chances with her.

She breathed deeply for a moment and understood that he wasn't going to elaborate on the subject any further. Knowing that he was feeling uneasy, she had the choice between pressing her luck with more dangerous topics or backing off and always wondering. She chose the former.

"_Sometimes….at night, when I can't sleep, I can hear something howling outside. I asked the others what it was but they wouldn't tell me. I know what wolves sound like when they hunt and this is different…"_

The Beast's eyes widened in surprise and he felt needles stab into his insides. His mouth went dry and he clenched his jaw a little tighter. Belle could tell by his reaction that she had hit a tender spot but it was curious as to why. Her naturally inquisitive mind was battling her good manners as to what drove this Beast in front of her and why he thought the way he did.

"_It's you out there, isn't it?"_ She finally dared to ask.

There was an instant change in his countenance and it threw her back to those first few days at the castle. He snorted through his nose and his eyes turned the color of lapis lazuli. With a curt nod he finally said._ "Yes."_

The reaction spurred her to dig further, though she didn't know why. _"Are you outside…hunting?"_

As if he had come to some kind of realization, he gave another stiff nod. He seemed to have moved to a darker place that he had been avoiding and she almost wished she had kept her mouth shut. _"Yes. I hunt most nights, though not as of late. If you will excuse me."_

And without another word he slid off the chair and onto all fours, which she had not seen him do very often and definitely not recently. It was surprising to study how he maneuvered his body this way and she realized that it must be more comfortable for the way his joints were made. She was beginning to understand that he walked around like a man for her benefit, not his.

Unnerved by his reaction, she twisted in her chair and would have reached out to him, but was worried that he wouldn't like that. _"Wait! Why are you leaving?"_

He paused and shifted his weight to his haunches and turned to look at her. _"What do you mean?"_

_"I did not mean to upset you. Please, don't leave."_

He pulled his head up, perplexed and looked at her suspiciously. _"Did you not understand what I just told you? I hunt things."_

"_Yes, I understood what you meant."_

The Beast shook his head, wondering where the miscommunication was coming from. Surely she needed to be completely informed of exactly what kind of revelation she had stumbled on. _"I hunt animals down in the woods and kill them. I do not cook my food or use silly little forks and spoons. I eat them will they are still warm! Now do you understand?"_

Belle seemed to sense his challenge of her ability to handle the truth. She quirked her eyebrow up and looked at him as if he had said something silly. _"Yes, I guessed as much. And if you are trying to scare me it won't work. I've known plenty of humans who don't even eat the animals after they've killed them. One man in my village loves nothing better then to hang up what he's killed on the walls of his tavern."_

This phased the Beast and his mouth became less rigid. _"Would he do that to me?" _He asked softly and she realized that he wasn't so much angry as he was worried about her reactions to things she had knowingly asked about.

Belle smirked a little cynically. _"I'd like to see him try."_

The Beast found himself bemused by this response. Sitting down fully on his hind legs he looked deeply into her face. _"I do not understand you. Why aren't you afraid?"_

She could have smiled at his bewilderment but refrained. _"Now that I know it is you, I don't need to be. I don't blame you for having to eat. Just steer clear of hunters and I won't have to worry about you."_

Something about the nonchalance in her voice disturbed him greatly and he pulled a paw through his mane. _"I think I will eat with you from now on, if you don't mind."_ He said cautiously. This time she did smile and tentatively reached out a hand to stroke the hair behind his left ear.

_"I would like that very much. I hope you like spice cake because it is my favorite and I ask for it often."_

He looked at her deeply, determining if she was serious. Apparently he decided that she was because he smiled back._ "I am sure it is wonderful and I will try to….eat your kinds of food gracefully."_

She nodded, acknowledging his efforts. It was amazing the difference in their relationship and how easily he accepted her answers to things, as if he trusted her. How amazing it was for her to realize that she finally trusted him. She scratched gently at the spot he was always reaching for behind his ear and without thinking he made a soft little rumbling noise that, after an extremely tense moment, she realized it was probably something akin to a purr.

"_You are funny."_ She said with a laugh and he looked back at her suspiciously.

"_No I am not."_ He said, rather self-conscious. How could she call him funny? He was a beast! There is nothing funny about that.

"_Yes you are."_ She answered confidently and despite himself her smile melted any indignation he was feeling.

For a moment neither spoke, not wanting to say something to make things awkward once more. After it a moment, though, it was the Beast who broke the silence.

"_Belle? What does it mean to cherish?"_ He asked again, still wondering about her answer.

She cocked her head to the side and thought about this for a moment.

_"It means….. to care for someone. To care so deeply for someone, or something, that you would do anything for them. To you, their value is greater then yourself."_

The Beast nodded, excepting this answer. _"That's what I thought."_

"_Why do you ask?" _

He shook his head and answered evasively._ "No reason…." _

She let the answer stand, allowing him to keep his secrets to himself. With another yawn she stretched her body out all the way down to her toes. _"I think I am ready to go to sleep now."_

The Beast nodded, regretting the end to their conversation, but accepting it nonetheless. He stood up on his hind legs and made a move to go towards the door and then stopped and turned towards her.

"_If you would like,"_ he began, feeling insecure _"I could walk you to your room…. Just in case you need to be…. protected from anything…."_

Belle paused for a moment ascertaining his words. With a small laugh her mouth erupted in the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. _"I would appreciate that very much."_

He smiled and then offered her his arm as Lumiere had shown him. She would not know until years and years later that every night, when he would escort her this same way to her room, he would wait until he knew she could not hear him and then he would whisper into the door frame so that only the darkness was his witness, _'I cherish you, Belle.'_

Belle knew it was true. And despite it all, her anger at him and the years that had made them older and brought on the mediocrity of life, she would always know that he did, in fact, cherish her. That, in and of itself, was enough reason for her to believe that things would work out.


	39. Amends

_**Authors Note: **It's been a long summer guys. That is my only excuse for leaving this chapter 3/4th of the way finished for the last three months and not having the time to post it's completed form until now. If any of you are still out there reading my work I would cut my right hand off for a few reviews on this chapter as I worked by butt off to get it done. It wasn't easy either, perhaps because it is one of my wrap-up chapters. It's been on my mind since I started writing this story and I do love the way it turned out. I think you'll like it too. The story's not completed, I still have a few more threads to tie in but it's definitely the beginning of the end._

_On another note I went to Disneyland for the first time in my life this summer and I got to meet Belle. Or at least a ditzy girl who plays Belle. Her dress was stunning. I also read a book called Linger by Maggie Stiefvater which is a sequel to a book called Shiver by the same author. I didn't like Linger. I'm still a fan of Shiver. I just felt like telling you all that because it was epic. If anyone has read them we should have a conversation._

_ Love much and look forward to a few more chapters being pumped out pretty soon. Always remember reviews are our friends, not food!  
_

**This chapter was inspired by the wonderful song: "Fall Apart Today" by Schuyler Fisk**

_I don't want us_  
_to fall apart today or ever_  
_You're the one who said_  
_you'd never leave_  
_There's no good reason for__ giving up_  
_All this mess is just bad luck_  
_So please don't lose your_  
_confidence in me_

_I don't wanna feel like this_  
_But I'm so tired of missing you_  
_I don't wanna beg for your time_  
_I want you mine, all mine_

_I bet you smile when you think of me_  
_you love me messy in the morning_  
_freckles on my knees_

_I wish I wasn't so fragile_  
_cause I know that I'm not_  
_easy to handle_

_Oh baby please_  
_Don't forget you love me_  
_Don't forget you love me_  
_today_

_

* * *

_**Chapter Thirty-Nine: Amends**

The entire household of Rose Castle left Constantine with the threat of impending storm looming over their heads. The advanced guard trooped ahead of the caravan and for the most part the departure was uneventful. Christian rode in his carriage somewhere toward the head of the party and Belle rode in her own down the line. Sophia had her own as well and Chip rode with his brothers and sisters. Neither Belle nor Christian said a word to each other and most of the servants just shrugged and thought, 'Oh well, back to normal.'

It was a long and bumpy journey and everyone was a little less then inclined to be cheerful. On the second day of travel the winds picked up and it thundered deafeningly with lightening riddling the sky. Both Paris and Jean-Luc were riding in their mother's carriage and when the storm broke loose they erupted into inconsolable tears every time the thunder boomed overhead. Belle soothed, cajoled, scolded, and then wept herself as she was unable to persuade the twins that all would be well. Several hours of this went by before it reached the head of the caravan to Christian's notice. Upon hearing that his sons were not allowing their mother to rest he stopped the entire party. Hobbling on the wet ground, his men followed behind to make sure their king didn't topple over and break his other leg.

When they reached Belle's carriage she was sitting with a twin on either side of her, their heads on her lap. Her face was a blotchy mess and she was startled to see Christian standing at her carriage door. With a wave of his hand his two menservants lifted the whimpering princes into their arms and began to carry them back up the train of carriages. Belle made an alarmed noise when her husband lifted his hand to silence her. Pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket, he handed it to her with a soft smile.

"I will take care of them; you must rest. Are you warm enough?"

Belle dabbed at her eyes and nodded her head quickly. As if he didn't believe her, he gripped one of his crutches with his elbow and used his hand to pull at the clasps on his cloak. Then shrugging it off, he set it gently on the seat next to her as that was as far as he could reach. She gently took it and rubbed the warm fur against her cheek lovingly.

"Thank you." She whispered and he smiled at her, if a bit sadly. With a nod he shut the carriage door and once he was safely inside his own, the journey continued. Christian spent the rest of the trip sitting up, with one twin lying across the seat, his head on his father's lap. The other twin was curled up inside blankets on the seat opposite of his father and for the majority of the journey Christian was able to keep his sons from becoming too excited with the storm that raged almost the whole way back to Rose Castle.

The advanced guard and a good deal of servants were sent ahead to do a number of things. The first was to verify that the castle was in fact in the right place, which was entirely relieving to his occupants. The next was to comb through room after room to find that things had more or less set themselves in order. Whatever had been pillaged and plundered was returned to it's proper place and whatever damage the edifice had received from the fire and the villagers was magically nonexistent. The spell had done a fairly good job in making things seem like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. When Christian and the rest of the caravan finally arrived the castle was alight with warm fires and clean clothing, good food on the tables and down turned bedspreads.

Everyone was so relieved to be home that Christian allowed his entire staff a day of rest and recuperation. When the castle occupants had more or less resumed their regular stations the issue of Sophia's impending servitude was officially made known to the entire household and she was stripped of her title. Then, dressed in the clothing of a scullery maid, she was placed in the kitchens and began her duties forthwith. If anyone disagreed with Christian's orders they were only to receive a look from him and nothing else was spoken on the subject. It was more then their jobs worth to argue with him.

Belle did not stray far from her rooms for a few days after their arrival, but found that the amount of courtiers and family members arriving like an invariable army of nuisances made it difficult for her to be reclusive. Her presence was required continually and she had no choice but to be the regal hostess she was.

Christian was preparing to leave again. His advisers would take care of the household and with the amount of people clamoring for his attention he would not be devoid of company on his journey to Paris. The days passed and he soon gave up the notion of any kind of reconciliation with Belle before he left. He would have to accept the fact that it would just have to wait. It was probably better this way anyways and would give her enough time to think things over. Perhaps the time away would allow her to forget some his flaws, of which he knew he had many.

* * *

It wasn't four days after Sophia went to work in the kitchens that she managed to somehow cause a spectacular catastrophe and set the place on fire. From what Christian was able to gather after the fact, Sophia had been trying to light a camping type fire inside one of the ovens. She did not seem to grasp that not all fire building was the same and had managed to get a very good flame going that overcame her quickly. By some miracle no one was hurt and the fire had started close enough to the kitchen water bins that the rest of the staff was able to put the flames out before it devoured the whole room. Most of the pantry was singed and there were large char marks reaching along the walls, halfway to the ceiling. Sophia's skirts had caught fire and the maids closest to her had dove on top her shrieking form and had smothered the lapping heat before it burned their princess.

Christian had nearly removed Sophia from her servitude right there and then but she had cried incessantly until he consented to place her in a different part of the castle as the chefs would not have stood for her in their damaged kitchen another moment. He assigned her to wash stairwells for a while in hopes that the hard physical labor of scrubbing stair after stair would eventually break her down and cause her to see reason.

But Christian underestimated how deeply imbedded he had passed on his stubborn streak to his daughter. She worked from sun-up to sundown without stop, until her knees bled and cracked from pressing them into the ground. Her fingers soon became chapped and raw and she started leaving bloody spots on the stairs from her blistered hands. Christian realized that he was going to have to come up with something soon because Belle was not going to stand for her daughter's masochism much longer. Luckily for him, the best solution presented itself the day before he would leave for Paris.

* * *

Christian raised his arms above his head and allowed a very loud, but very fake sounding roar bellow out of his mouth. His twin sons pealed with giggles as they stood in front of him, receiving their lessons in fearlessness. Their father gritted his teeth and growled in a silly way but just enough to be distinguished as a growl. He double checked himself continually through the entire time he was sitting with his boys so as not to accidentally allow a real growl to escape him.

"Now, deep in your throat boys, like this." He took a large breath of air, a devilish smile on his face. "Rooooooaaaarrrrrr!"

Paris and Jean-Luc raised their slender fingers into claws and roared along with their father, their voices sounding more musical then frightening. They both clapped their palms together and smiled expectantly at Christian as he chuckled, patting them on the backs.

"Very good, my sons, very good. You will be my brave warriors, wait and see."

Just as he was saying this, there was a soft tap at the door after which both Cogsworth and Lumiere let themselves into the nursery without invitation. The men seemed to have, more or less, relaxed from their two weeks of hell prior. They approached Christian with amused expressions on their faces and their king barely paid them any mind.

"Now, my boys, you must strike fear into the hearts of your enemies. Show me your claws again." The boys both struck poses that they believed would 'strike fear into their enemies hearts'. Arms raised above heads they bore their teeth for their father and glared in adorable fashions.

Lumiere chuckled as Cogsworth shook his head in disbelief.

"Master, don't you think they are a bit young for this? You wouldn't want to frighten them."

Christian pursed his lips in Cogsworth direction and raised his head in defiance. "My boys? Frightened? Never." He then pushed himself to his feet with the use of his arms and stood on his good foot and faced Jean-Luc and Paris.

"My sons are as tough as iron, aren't you? They could scare a wolf in its tracks! Frightened, Ha! Show Cogsworth and Lumiere how frightening you both are. Show them your best roar, go ahead."

The boys didn't hesitate but looked up at Lumiere and Cogsworth and imitated how their father showed his teeth threateningly.

"ROARRR" They both bellowed out of sync with each other. Cogsworth and Lumiere pretended to be frightened at the little princes' display

Christian smiled smugly at his heirs and nodded his head encouragingly. "See, I told you that-" But amidst his bragging Paris and Jean-Luc rushed at their father with giggles and wrapped their arms around both his legs, nuzzling their faces into his trousers.

"Oh Papa, I love you!"

"Papa, Will you marry me?"

Both Cogsworth and Lumiere snorted with mocking laughter into their handkerchief or hands at their King's obvious dismay.

"Oh, yes! Zey are 'orrible monsters, zese are!" Lumiere muttered loud enough for Christian to hear. He was received with a scowl before Christian turned his attention back to the Jean-Luc who had asked the question.

"No son… You will marry a princess like we discussed."

Immediately both boy's smiles disappeared and they looked at their father with alarm.

"But Papa, we want to stay with you!" Paris' shrill voice had a bit of a whimper to it.

Christian sighed heavily. "Do not worry boys, I will not leave you. Now, go and find Claire. Its almost time for your nap."

His sons nodded obediently but then reached their hands up to their father for affection. He, knowing they both feared he would leave them as he usually did, felt painful guilt at the fact that he would have to be separated once again from his family for reasons he could not change. Placing a soft kiss on each of their heart shaped mouths they trotted off to find their nanny.

Watching them go with a worried expression he finally turned to look at his advisers.

"Are the bags packed already? I'm impressed. You must be looking forward to my absence." he said with humor.

Both Cogsworth and Lumiere ignored his last statement. "We don't wish to disturb you right before your departure, Sire, but we have a…. situation."

Christian's eyes tightened at Cogsworth's somber statement but he still had no desire to handle any more dreary issues, especially since his extended family was filled to the brim with them, just awaiting his arrival. With a half smile, he gazed at his advisers. "I don't care who they are or what they look like. Whomever is at the door can have _my_ room and tell them I'll treasure their nasty rose until the day I die."

Both Cogsworth and Lumiere were confused for a moment before they comprehended what he was talking about and then realized that he was being facetious.

"Zat is not funny." Lumiere looked at Christian with a smile in his eyes.

"Oh, come now, it is a little funny." He answered as he was taking his crutches to put under his arms. "Besides, if it isn't anything worse then that, I don't think I want to hear about it."

"One of Sophia's bodyguards was shot."

Christian stopped instantly and turned to look at Cogsworth, eyes wide with surprise.

"Is he alright? Is he dead?"

Both men shook their heads in unison. "Non," Lumiere answered, " It was not a fatal wound."

Christian took a breath and then squinted his eyes in concentration. "Wait a moment… Sophia does not have formal bodyguards anymore. I mean, I have the entire staff watching her every move but…her original guards are stationed elsewhere."

Cogsworth nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes, we know that. It was Benard and he wasn't actually guarding Sophia at the time."

Christian cocked his head to the side and looked at Cogsworth strangely. "What was he shot with?"

"It was an arrow, sire."

"What was Benard doing out in the archery fields?"

Lumiere gave Christian an evasive look. " 'E was not on ze archery fields."

Eyeing Lumiere, he asked the next obvious question. "So…what was an archer doing in the north corridor where Benard was supposed to be?"

Lumiere looked this way and that then scrunched up his face, trying to find the right answer. "Well…technically ze archer was not in ze castle."

"Where was he exactly?"

" 'E was…outside ze castle. At ze window…. inside ze rose garden."

Christian was getting some sort of inkling that there was far more to this story then he was getting piece by piece. "So I am to understand that some intruder scaled the stone wall, and was hiding out in the rose garden to shoot Benard through the window he would undoubtedly be passing by because…..?"

Cogsworth wrung his hands for a moment and then gave Christian a nervous look. "Well, you see Christian, it wasn't really an intruder…."

Christian raised a hand to his chin and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "No, I don't suppose an intruder would know exactly when Sophia's former bodyguard would be passing by a window…"

Quite immediately Christian realized why these two were being so evasive. With astounding force he pounded a fist on a nearby table, nearly upsetting a vase of freshly cut roses.

"Damn it! It was Chip wasn't it?"

Both men grimaced at Christian's reaction but reluctantly nodded their heads.

Christian growled in frustration. "Oh, that idiot boy! I am going to box his ears and then he'll be mucking stables until I can think of a worse punishment!"

Grabbing his crutches, he pulled them underneath his arms. "Curse this leg…" he muttered to himself as he began to make his way towards the door.

Both Cogsworth and Lumiere scampered behind him, looking worried. Christian focused on moving forward as he talked. "Where is he right now, and where exactly was it that he shot Benard?"

Cogsworth was impressed at how quickly Christian could move on his crutches in the short amount of time he had been using them.

"He was told to stay in the rose garden. I had Clemant keep an eye on him until you had been informed."

Lumiere trotted alongside Christian, mentally preparing himself to catch his master should he fall. "What would you like us to do, your majesty?"

Christian grimaced without looking away from his intended course. "Go about your duties until I need you. I must speak with my _son_ alone."

* * *

Chip was in fact still in the rose garden, knowing full well he would be apprehended by Clemant should he attempt to escape. He still had the offending bow and arrow in his hands and to combat his intensely pent up frustration he was using one of the arrows as a whip of sorts to slash the heads off the roses, leaving a trail of floral carnage in his wake. It felt good to be destructive and he secretly hoped he would get caught doing it. He was just coming around the bend of the hedgerow with his arrow raised to attack another bush that he caught sight of Christian. The man was standing in the middle of the pebbled path and though his arms were occupied holding his crutches his face was set into hard, ridged lines. Chip put his arm down and gazed steadily back at his irate master. Taking a few steps forward, he kept himself at a safe enough distance, while still getting close enough to see details in Christian's irises. For what felt like eternity, no one spoke. Then, quite suddenly Christian opened his mouth.

"Speak!"

Chip pursed his lips and then glared at Christian, not really understanding where this intense anger was coming from. He was acting like a tantrum throwing toddler and wasn't even sure why.

"No." was the answer that flew out of his mouth. Turning himself around, Chip once again approached the rose bush, hearing Christian follow him noisily.

"What the hell did you think you were doing? Shooting Benard in the arse! When in heaven's name did you come to the notion that this was acceptable behavior!"

Chip acted as if he had not heard his sovereign. Lifting his arrow once again he began to hack at the rose bush with fervor. He heard Christian's sharp intake of breath as he quickly reached Chip. He was surprised to feel his master's hand on his arm as the older man snatched the arrow out of Chip's clenched fingers.

"What—Stop that! Give me those!"

With extremely swift movements Christian had the bow in his grasp as well. Furiously he hurled them behind himself and then took a step past Chip, towards the mutilated bush. Reaching down he grasped one of the pink-tipped buds in his fingers from off the ground. For a moment Christian looked pained at his baby rose. Then holding it up for Chip to see he tossed it into the boys face and hoped a thorn would prick his skin.

"Do you understand how much trouble you are in, boy?"

Chip again glared at Christian who in turn glared back, though from a considerable amount of distance higher.

"What are you going to do? Growl at me?" Chip spat back, wanting to make Christian as angry as he felt.

For a fleeting moment Chip thought he saw surprise register in Christian's eyes. Then he seemed to move beyond anger as he shook his head and sighed.

"Alright then, come along. If you are going to insist on acting like a child, I am going to treat you like one. I'm sure Andre will allow the use of his whip."

Chip instantly went pale, his anger fleeing him immediately. Armand and Lamont had been whipped with a switch a few times for unruly behavior, but Chip had never received a punishment worse then an ear boxing once in a while from his mother. Not to mention he knew that Christian was deadly serious about whipping him. Servants had been striped for less then Chip's infraction.

Putting up his hands, he donned a submissive pose. "Christian, no! I… Please. Please, I don't want to be whipped."

His king wheeled around. "And I am certain that Benard did not want to be shot today, but that didn't seem to stop you!"

Chip closed his mouth, hoping that if he remained meek he might be able to change Christian's mind about beating him.

Turning himself fully around again he gave Chip a look that spoke of absolutely no nonsense. "Now, you are going to explain to me what was going through your head. And suffer no delusions, Christophe, I will take no issue in treating you like any other servant under my employ who would dare do as you have done."

Chip looked down at the ground, feeling like a child and realizing that Christian had been correct in his assessment of his juvenile behavior.

"I don't know what was going through my head." He answered semi-honestly.

Christian regarded the boy for a moment. "You came out here for a reason. You were waiting for someone to pass by that window. If not Benard himself, then someone. And I have a sinking suspicion that you specifically looked out for Sophia's guard. Why?"

Chip shuffled his foot guiltily. "He is supposed to be protecting the princess. He wasn't doing his job."

Christian nearly exploded with fury at this. "He was on my orders! And just to make things very clear, you do not know who is protecting Sophia right now! Just because he looked like he wasn't acting as her guard does not mean he wasn't!"

Chip opened his mouth in surprise and then closed it. "I..I.. I didn't know. I did not think-"

"Exactly! You did not think at all! What kind of fool do you take me for!"

Chip grimaced at Christian's question but did not get a chance to answer.

"I have had people trying to kill me since I was eight years old! Do you honestly think I would be thoughtless enough leave my daughter unprotected? I kept it a secret from everyone, because she needs to be able to exert her independence without every man she comes across counting her very steps! And that includes you!"

Chip was completely overwhelmed with his own stupidity. How had he allowed his judgment to become so clouded that he had not guessed this from the start?

"I'm sorry, your highness." Chip was finally able to say gently.

"Oh, not as sorry as you're going to be! First you are going to march up to Benard's room and apologize to him and his family. Then you are going to do his work for him until his wound is nothing but a scar. At least until I can think of what else I am going to do with you! Am I understood?"

Chip nodded feebly and his shoulders sank. "Yes, sire." He murmured quietly, realizing he had managed to make things worse then they had been before.

There was silence for a long time as Chip waited for Christian to dismiss him. He didn't dare look up into his master's face to see that horrible expression of anger and disappointment in him that he had always dreaded, but knew he deserved.

Christian rubbed his face with his hands and shook his head so that his horsetail whipped from side to side.

"Chip," he finally began, licking his lips. "I do not understand what could have possibly possessed you to be this idiotic. I expect this behavior from your brothers, but not from you."

Chip clenched his teeth together and then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what you want me to say. I am sorry, if that helps."

Christian blew air impatiently through his nose. "Of course it doesn't help. You are sorry because I pointed out your stupidity to you. But the real reasons behind your actions you refuse to speak with me about. As if you think me too ignorant to figure you out."

Chip finally raised his head and looked at his master inquisitively. "What do you mean?"

Christian closed his eyes and opened them quickly, tiring of this whole affair. "You have been moping about this place for a week, like a lovesick puppy and making a complete imbecile of yourself. It doesn't take much intelligence to realize that you are completely in love with Sophia. The only thing I can't seem to determine is whether you have realized these things or not."

Chip shook his head for a moment and then began several sentences without finishing them so that only noises came out of his mouth. He looked at Christian pleadingly and then bit his lip painfully.

"No… I don't….You must under-"

Christian waited patiently for Chip to talk himself into silence again and then looked at the sky as if imploring it to give him strength.

"If I am wrong then tell me the truth right now. I need to hear it from your own lips whether you love my daughter or not."

Chip seemed to be experiencing some sort of pain coming from somewhere in his body because his face was twisted in agony. Caught in his indecision to tell the truth or lie he weighed out the consequences of what either would bring. They could both potentially bring his life crashing to the ground depending wholly on what this man before him might be thinking. Finally, unable to hold it in any longer his words burst forth out of his mouth without any ability for him to stop them.

"Yes! Yes, I love her! I'm sorry, it just happened, I don't know how. But I do! I love her and I hate to see her working and hurting and I cannot do anything about it! I think about her all the time and it's killing me, 'Tian! I don't want you to send me away but I think you are going to have to because I am certain I am going to die from loving her!"

Christian immediately rolled his eyes at this dramatic display. The words were poetic enough, but just wait until Chip has to endure the awful way a woman can stay angry with her husband for weeks, making his life miserable until she lets him off the hook. Then we'll see how many pretty words about love this boy will be spouting out.

Chip was breathing in and out so quickly, Christian worried that he might swoon.

Nodding his head thoughtfully. "Hmmm…", he said, strumming his fingers on his crutches. "Well, it's about time you finally let it out. You know, Chip, I don't believe you should hold things in like this anymore. You don't think rationally when you do. Trust me, I know this from recent experience."

Chip's eyes were wide with worry and fear as he looked at Christian's calm figure. "Are you going to send me away?"

Christian quirked his eyebrow. "No, why? Do you wish me to send you away?"

Chip shook his head vigorously. "No! But I…. I am nothing but a servant. I cannot imagine what you must be thinking of me."

Christian took a ginger step in Chip's direction so that now he was in touching distance.

"Yes, you are a servant; A servant who fell in love with a princess. Sounds familiar doesn't it? I do not wish to put a damper on your anguish but you would not be the first sturdy young man to do so. If you will remember, once upon a time, a young prince fell in love with a peasant girl who came wondering into his castle in the middle of the night."

Chip's eyes drooped a little at the comparison. "That story isn't the same as this."

Christian shrugged. "Perhaps not, though I suppose there is only one way to find out."

Shifting his crutches in the direction he had entered the gardens he turned his body. "You wait here." He said over his shoulder.

Chip looked at Christian in confusion. "Where are you going?"

He gave Chip a half-smile. "I'm going to go and speak with Sophia about this. I can't bloody well make any firm decisions until I've heard how she feels."

Chip's knees went weak and he very nearly fainted. "Oh dear God, Please don't! I'm begging you not to!"

Christian would have liked to laugh, but restrained himself. "Don't beg; it doesn't suit you."

Chip raised his hands helplessly wanting to kick himself for ever having blurted out his confession. How could he have been so stupid as to admit to her father the truth? Now she would know and probably laugh at him and his ridiculous confession of love.

Taking a deep breath he placed a hand on his stomach. "I don't think I feel well…" he murmured.

Christian did his best to keep from sniggering at Chip's pale figure. "Well, that isn't good is it? Come, sit down on that bench over there and don't move until I return."

Chip gratefully planted himself on the middle of the bench, his stomach churning from nerves at the thought that his heart could very easily be stomped on this day.

Christian sighed, wishing these young people would open their eyes for just a moment and see what was clearly in front of them. "What is the worst thing that could happen?"

Chip gazed at Christian incredulously. "She could say no, Christian! She could and probably will reject me! And what if she does say yes, then what? I am no prince! I am a kitchen boy! I scrub floors and wash dishes! Why are you taunting me with this? I will never be with her. My station does not allow it!"

"Oh foolish boy," Christian began sardonically, "How easily you forget the only thing that matters." He paused for dramatic emphasis. "I am the king, and I can do whatever the hell I want. Now, you will sit here and are not to move from this spot until I say so, understand?"

Chip nodded, still looking as if he had seen a ghost. Then in a pitiful voice that did not sound like Chip at all, he looked at Christian imploringly. "Sire, What if she says yes? I cannot be king…"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that too much. Jean-Luc will be king. And Paris after him, if the need arises. So, unless you intend on assassinating both my sons with that bow of yours, it's very unlikely that you will ever sit on the throne."

Chip again nodded and looked at his hands hoping this little affair never reached any of the other servants or he would never live it down. Openly speaking of love about the princess to her very own father was single-handedly the stupidest thing he was sure he had ever done.

"Alright, then. I won't be long." Christian said with a smile, then stopped for just a moment and looked directly at Chip. "And by the way, you are going to spend the rest of the day planting a new rose bush for every flower you mutilated today. Am I clear?" Chip swallowed and then nodded, wondering how many rose bushes that was actually going to be. Christian smiled knowingly at the boy and then turned around to begin making his way to the servant's quarters.

* * *

The quickest way to get to the room Sophia was currently sharing with three other maids was through the vast kitchens. He took his time getting there and upon entering was met with dozens of servants clamoring for his attention. He smiled amiably at all of them as they cooed and basked in his presence. He was required to try all the dishes being prepared for the meal that evening and was bombarded with questions about his family and his impending trip to Paris. Finally when he felt like enough time was spent keeping his staff happy he looked about himself as if directions were required.

"I actually need to speak to my daughter. Can any of you tell me if she is in her quarters?"

Two maids nodded and led the way to Sophia's little shared room and left the king to do whatever it was he had come here to do.

Without knocking he opened the door silently and stepped in. Sophia was sitting on her bed with a pile of dirty bandages scattered all around her. She did not look up from what she was doing, thinking it was one of her roommates that had entered the room.

"I will be back to work in a moment, I just need to finish wrapping my hands." She said with some bite to her words.

Christian chuckled. "I have to say, that might not be very helpful since you are just going to stick them back into that bucket of dirty water."

Sophia, recognizing his voice instantly, jumped to her feet, her hand half wrapped. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, in this castle at least."

Sophia barely stopped herself from glaring at his sarcasm. "I meant what are you doing down here in the servant's quarters. Did I do something wrong?"

"Hmmm aside from trying to burn down the kitchen? No." He answered with a smile.

She sighed impatiently. "I already told you I was sorry, you know."

"Oh yes, I know and I happen to find the incident rather funny, since no one was actually hurt. Chef Francois is really the person you should be worried about. He told me that the next time I employ a scullery maid I'm required to ensure that she can light a proper fire."

Sophia's shouldered sagged in defeat and she looked at her father with her large brown eyes drooping at the corners. "I am trying…"

"I would say so, if your hands are any indication. Your mother will skin me alive if she sees what I've let you do to yourself."

Sophia dismissed this as not being any of her mother's business. Her bed creaked as she once again resumed her seat. Christian was disturbed to see exactly how raw and cracked her slender fingers were and hoped that this adventure as a servant would not cause any permanent damage to her hands.

"How is she? Ma mere, how is she?" Sophia asked without turned her head.

Maneuvering himself around the beds he laid his crutches down on the floor and sat next to Sophia on her bed. "She is alright. A bit tired I think. She just doesn't want to see you working as a servant, I hope you can understand that."

"I think I can, but I have to do this. I have no other choice."

Christian chuckled at her narrow-mindedness. "My dear, there is always another choice. Now, let me see your hands, they must be wrapped properly."

She gave him a stubborn look. "I can do it myself."

Holding out his hand he looked at her with a firm eye and she, knowing his facial expressions better then her own, surrendered her torn up fingers for bandaging.

As gently, but as deftly as he had braided her hair he picked out clean strips of cloth and wrapped them around and around her palms. Firmly, but not nearly as tightly as she had been wrapping them her hands were soon totally covered and unmovable. He smiled at her and flicked her nose in hopes it would make her smile as well. It didn't.

"So," he began nonchalantly "How long is this going to be your one and only choice?"

A frown came down on the corners of her mouth. "The rest of my life." She answered matter-of-factually.

"Hmmmm" Christian answered rubbing his chin with three of his fingers. "That doesn't bode well for your former bodyguards." He murmured.

"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing." Her father answered with a smile. "What if I were to tell you that there is a young man sitting out in the rose garden at this very moment dieing of love for you and finds this life choice or yours to be a rather miserable situation."

Both eyebrows went up at this. "Who?"

Christian also raised his own eyebrow, much in the same manner as she had. "Who would you like it be?"

She lowered her chin and shrugged one shoulder, wondering what this game was her father was playing at.

"It doesn't matter. I shall never marry, so there is no difference either way."

He thought about this for a moment. "That's unfortunate. It's an experience I would highly recommend to you."

"Father," she began, her tone meant to be informative "I don't think you can understand. I am sure all those princes would make fine husbands to a princess, but I am not a princess anymore. And besides, if there _is_ someone sitting out in the rose garden, it is not the man _I _am dieing of love for."

Christian had to think of drowning puppies to keep himself from laughing at this whole situation. "Oh, well, Chip will be very disappointed to hear that."

Sophia jerked her body around with neck-breaking swiftness and stared at her father with a mixture of horror and shock. "It _is_ Chip sitting out in the Rose Garden?"

"I would hope so. He's in a spot of trouble right now and Clemant is making sure he stays put."

Sophia would have liked to inquire as to what Chip did to get himself into trouble but her heart was fluttering too fast for her to think clearly.

"But…but… but I thought he hated me. He hasn't spoken to me in weeks."

Christian finally let out a sardonic chuckle. "Funny how love and hate get mixed up so easily, isn't it?"

She ignored his whimsy and wracked her brain for a plausible explanation to this strange turn of events. Looking at her father, pleadingly she swallowed hard. "I don't understand…. What am I supposed to do?"

Christian laughed right out at this. "You are asking me?"

She took a huge breath and without warning began to sob. Her face crumpled as the weight of weeks of worrying and painful emotions flooded over her. With a pathetic cry she leaned over and laid her head in her father's lap and buried her face in his stomach. Her sobs shook her body and she curled her damaged hands in on herself and wished that life wasn't so hard and complicated and confusing.

Christian pressed his lips together and pulled her maids bonnet off her head and began to brush the small fine hairs away from her sweaty, wet face. He soothingly stroked his large fingers along her hairline and massaged his thumb along her temple as it pounded with energy from her deep wailing.

"Now, now," he whispered softly into her ear "There's no need to be so upset. Why all these tears?"

She couldn't speak for a moment as she rolled over onto her shoulder so she could look up into his face to see that he wasn't smiling, but that his eyes still held that dancing twinkle, indicating that he found this whole thing amusing.

"Oh, Papa. I've made such a mess of everything. I've done so many bad things! Why are you still speaking with me?"

He pressed his fingers to her cheeks to smear away the downpour of tears that covered her face. "Dearest, no one expects you to be perfect. You are my daughter, why wouldn't I speak with you?"

She sniffled pitifully and looked away but did not remove her head from his lap, only pulled her legs in tighter to herself.

"I just can't fix this. I have done my best and I still cannot seem to make anything better. Perhaps everyone would be better off without me."

Christian sighed deeply and continued to brush her hair with his fingers. "But you are an odd girl." He said fondly. She did not respond to this but kept her forehead pressed against him and listened to the funny noises his stomach made.

Opening his mouth with a half-smile he looked down to make sure she was still hearing him. "I know I have not spoken with you about my life very often. I think you can understand why, now. But I can say that there are some truly perfect moments in my life that make everything worthwhile and one of those moments was you."

Sophia wasn't sure she was ready to hear him talk like this but was too afraid to interrupt.

"You know, when I found out I was going to be a father, I was terrified."

She gazed up at him again with red-rimmed eyes. "Really?"

He nodded his head with a wane smile. "Yes. Very few times in my life has anything frightened me as much as the prospect of having you. You see, it wasn't the same has being king or ruling a country. I knew if I made a mess of being your father, like I did just about everything else, I would not be getting another chance. I had only this one shot to get it right."

He paused smiling down on her lovely face thinking over the day he held her tiny pink form in his arms. How small she had been then, how perfect and sweet with her feathery tufts of brown hair and murky unfocused eyes looking up at him. Trusting him to care for her.

"So I prayed, every single day and night, that I would be given a girl. I knew…I _knew_ that _my_ girl would be smart. She wouldn't make the same mistakes that I made."

Sophia frowned sadly. "So much for that…"

Taking her chin between his thumb and index finger he pulled her face so that it was directly in line with him. "And that is what you are not understanding, my dearest. Anything good that I have ever done…I see it in you. And I couldn't be prouder of you. Everyone wanted me to have a son so that I would have an heir but, really, you would have done a marvelous job all on your own."

"I don't want to be queen, Papa…"

Christian paused, considering this. "I don't blame you. I never wanted to be king."

Sophia looked at him inquisitively. "You didn't? Not even when you found out you were your father's heir?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all. I still don't, I think. I wanted to be a woodsman or a hunter, like Chip's father. But my own did not think much of that idea and soon made sure that I ceased wanting it quickly."

"Oh, Papa…" She whispered with pain at her father's words.

He interjected quickly, wanting to squelch any pity she was feeling. "The reason I'm telling you this is that you have to know that I give you permission to be anything you want to be. You have my blessing to do whatever you choose. But what you don't have my permission to do is punish yourself any longer."

She blinked quickly and looked up at him. "But-"

"Not buts." he cut her off firmly "You are _my_ perfect little girl and I love you. _I. Love. You. _And if it will give you some peace to hear me say it, then I want you to know that I forgive you. I forgave you the moment it happened and you can know that not once have I ever hated you for it. Not once."

With a quick nod she pressed her fingers to her lips and pulled her arms around his waist, hugging his middle for a long time, loving the safety that could only come with being close to her father. Her father who loved her so very much. He leaned down and laid his head on her own, pressing their temples together before raising himself up again, as that position hurt his ribs.

Finally she spoke again, a tremor in her voice. "What do _you_ want me to do?"

"Just answer my one question. It is all I need to know. Do you love Chip?"

With some sadness in her voice she slowly nodded her affirmative. "I do. I do love him, Papa. I…. Think I've always loved him."

Christian nodded his head thoughtfully at this, wondering what the legal consequences would be in trying to arrange a future for these two. He wasn't entirely apt at all the technicalities of the laws of the court so he mentally shrugged his shoulders, knowing Cogsworth would take care of it.

"That's good to know. I wish you would have told me sooner."

Sophia shook her head and wished that she could disappear into her bedspread. "I feel like a fool. I should have known better. Either I am a princess and he is beneath my station, or I am a servant and I am beneath his, since you will be helping him to become an advisor. What am I to do?"

Christian again smiled ruefully as if he knew a secret he would never tell. "Love is so complicated, is it not? Servants falling in love with princesses, a prince in disguise who falls in love with…. an angel dressed as a peasant."

For a moment Sophia wanted to feel more self-pity but the thought of her father referring to her mother as an angel tweaked the corners of her mouth and she sighed heavily to cover her amusement. "You did not answer my question."

"I already told you, Sophia. You are allowed to do as you wish, I will not stand in your way."

She lifted her large brown eyes to look up at him. "Papa, this is impossible. I am….he is…."

Biting back a sarcastic comment, he smiled at her. "Sophia, take a moment to remember who you are despite your silly notions that you are to remain a servant for the rest of your life. By right, you are a princess. You hold the blood of many generations of the rulers of this country in your veins. No amount of title stripping can change that. You are also third in line for the throne of France. That is no meager feat, whether you want it or not. I also what you to remember that there is a boy out there in that Rose garden who loves you and is about to have some sort of early death if you do not come out those doors to greet him soon. He will think you have rejected him. But it has to be your decision. You must ask him, that is the way it is done. But if you choose to not be with Chip, that is fine, I will not push you in that direction. The only thing I require of you at this moment is that you find a more productive and less destructive use of your time. Am I clear?"

She nodded her head once more then paused. "Papa, what about the people? They will never accept this."

He placed a hand on her cheek and smiled. "Do not concern yourself with the people. They will accept whatever I tell them to accept. Besides, I have the most gifted adviser in the land for writing up forged documentation. We will make this all right."

For the first time in what felt like eternity to Christian his daughter smiled up at him as he held her head on his lap. It was the most tender of moments between father and child and he wished it would never end. Finally with light in her eyes she looked deeply into his face.

"Papa, may I marry him?"

Christian nodded his head affirmatively. "Yes, you may."

Sitting up slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. She studied him the way she had once done as a child. Every little line that had changed him from year to year into someone else entirely and still she wished to remember them all. The color of his eyes as they changed from day to day but still remained the same mesmerizing blue. And she knew that no matter what happened or how much time passed as it inevitably would, these eyes would forever be hers. She could continue to cherish them till the day she died and how much joy filled her to know this.

"I love you, papa. So very much." Her voice broke slightly wondering if he would accept her humble words.

With the smile he reserved only for her, he nodded his head. "I love you too, my girl."

Putting his arms around her he embraced his daughter for a long time, not willing to let her go. She was in no hurry either and allowed him to hold her like a child. Pressing their noses together, he shook his head.

"You'll need to run fast. He's still waiting for you." He whispered into her ear. She nodded and a small sob escaped her throat.

"Will you still be here when I get back?"

He smiled and allowed a tear to trickle down his cheek, knowing what she had meant by her question. "I'll always be right here." He then pressed his knuckles into the hollow underneath her collarbone, right above her heart.

Taking a deep breath she pressed her lips to his with a quick kiss and throwing her face into his neck one last time she whispered, "Thank you, Papa."

Then with the swiftness of a deer, she sprang to her feet and only turned for a moment to look back at him sitting on her bed before bounding out the door to run through the halls in the direction of the rose garden.

Christian sat in the silence of the little room wondering why he couldn't bring himself to call her back. To force her to remain a child for just a little bit longer before handing her over to another man's care. How stupid of him to let her go after just now getting her back. He pressed his hands palm-down on the bed for what felt like hours but in reality was only a few moments before lifting himself up onto his good foot. He knew that if he moved quickly, taking a short cut through the kitchens he would beat Sophia to the window where he could at least watch her find Chip in the Garden.

Not a soul in the kitchens had any idea what had just transpired inside the servant's quarters. Most knew that the strangest of things happened in this castle most of the time and so they had all learned to simply not ask. Everyone watched as the king made his way quickly through the kitchens, down the corridors until he reached the door that would lead him to the outside walkway. It was on the second story of the castle and had a long row of columns all down to the very other side of the castle. In this place Christian had a perfect view down into the gardens and had arrived in barely enough time, breath coming out a bit quickly from trying to reach this spot on crutches. He watched as the side door flew open and Sophia came bounding out, her hands still bandaged so tightly she couldn't even wiggle her fingers.

With obvious surprise Chip had jumped to his feet from the bench he was still sitting and watched with astonishment as Sophia ran at full speed towards him, her arms outstretched. With a cry of delight, Chip barely had enough time to brace himself as Sophia threw her weight onto him, tears already streaming down her face. It was a beautiful moment and Christian could almost be glad it was happening right before his eyes.

"Sophia! Are you—Do you-?" Chip's staggered voice rose up to Christian's sensitive ears. To her father's delight, Sophia gave out a laugh and with all the confidence in the world smiled at Chip and said, "Christophe Potts will you marry me?"

Christian smiled deeply and nodded his head in approval. "That's my girl." He whispered to no one in particular.

Chip took a moment to be flabbergasted by this but remained calm enough to finally put his hand to her cheek and, from what Christian could tell, whisper his affirmative to the princess.

With a deep sigh Christian made to go and give them a moment to themselves before sending a servant out to retrieve them. There would be much to do before any kind of wedding could happen. He shifted on his good heel and to his surprise was then faced with the most beautiful sight he could have ever hoped for. There at the door to the walkway stood Belle. She was dressed in a day gown of the palest yellow, small sky colored flowers decorated the bodice and her hair was swept up into a neat knot on the back of her head. She had a shawl around her shoulders and her chest was covered all the way up to her collarbone. She had some color back in her cheeks and her frame seemed fuller which indicated that she was once again sleeping and eating properly. She still had a hand on the handle of the door and her head was turned to the side looking at him with the most peculiar of expressions.

"Cogsworth?" He asked her automatically with a quirk of the eyebrow.

She nodded her head and took a step in his direction. "Lumiere as well. They said you were going to send Chip away to someplace horrid like America, so I thought I might come and speak up for him."

For a moment Christian thought she was entirely serious in this claim when he realized that her eyebrow was quirked just enough to indicate that she was teasing him. He felt the corner of his mouth tweak for a moment but then remembered that there was still a huge chasm between the two of them and he still wasn't sure that she was willing to actually accept his pitiful offer of contrition. For a moment they simply regarded each other, then without another word she walked over to the railing of the walkway and rested her elbows on the wall to look down into the garden on the pair below her.

Still uncertain as to how he could best handle this situation, Christian turned himself back around and stood next to her, enough distance between their bodies to show he was not trying to force himself on her. To his chagrin, he could see that Sophia and Chip had moved on to what would be their first kiss of many. He despised the idea of anyone kissing his daughter and had a happy image of beating Chip with one of his crutches. Still, there wasn't much he could do at the moment so he simply averted his eyes to Belle who was calmly watching her daughter and Chip. Glancing in several other directions, he finally let his eyes remain on her profile.

"Well…. what do you think of all this?" He asked uncertainly, gesturing towards the couple in the garden.

To his surprise she smiled knowingly but still did not turn her face towards his. "I think it is about time."

For the first time Christian had a sinking suspicion that Belle knew more about this entire situation then he did. He had pompously thought that he had figured out some great mystery no one else had. But the idea that this was "about time" was a worrying thought for him because he had not seen any of this coming. Sophia falling in love with Chip had not occurred to him once in his entire life.

With the threat of being sufficiently humbled he closed one eye before asking his next question.

"How long have you known about this?"

She waited for a moment and he quickly turned to look at her to see that she was now looking at him strait in the eye. With a soft look that could be only described as pitying for his ignorance she said sweetly, "Since she was five years old, dear. I was just waiting for Chip to figure it out as well."

Christian let his shoulders fall, all his pride eking out of him. "Where was I?"

For a moment she considered this before answering, but when she did her voice was full of sincerity. "You were too busy taking care of us to notice silly things like this. Besides, there wasn't much that could be done about it until she had had a few life experiences, so don't worry about it."

For perhaps the millionth time in his life, Christian wondered how Belle could be so sweet and kind to him after everything. Not being able to stop himself he smiled, if a bit sheepishly and allowed his eyes to wander around the walkway. There were servants here and there, passing them by, pretending they didn't notice their king and queen actually having a civil conversation. Two guards were posted on either end of the long row of pillars and neither seemed to be very attentive in their work. One was actually nodding off and for once Christian did not care one single bit.

Turning his head back towards his wife he was met with a soft smile that told him that he need not be nervous around her, though he wondered if that was just her trying to defuse the situation as she always did. With his index finger Christian started to make patterns on the wall of the walkway to combat the awkwardness of the situation. The last time they had had a formal conversation Belle had slapped him. An infliction he was still smarting from emotionally and was now unsure how to communicate with her. Falling back on his initial training, he opened his mouth.

"You look very beautiful today." He said softly, hoping she would accept the compliment.

She glanced down modestly and then looked back up at him as slowly a smile spread across her face. She tried to hide it by turned her head to look back down in the garden. Turning back to face him, her eyes had a sly look to them that he had not seen in a long time.

"And you," she began leaning closer to him in an alluring way that she did not realize would cause him emotional turmoil. "What do _you_ think about all this?"

She then gestured towards the gardens where Sophia and Chip were still standing, holding each other.

Christian blanched in the direction of her hand and then looked away, back at her quirked eyebrow. "I hate it." He said shortly, with as much venom as possible.

With a soft laugh that made his knee's week she shook her head. "You hate it? Then why did you agree to it?"

Lowering his head sadly he looked down at the boot on his good foot, and the soft semi-matching slipper on his other. He sighed heavily and then shrugged his shoulders. "I guess… I guess I just have to accept the fact that she is grown now. It happened so fast I didn't see it coming and after everything that has happened the best I could do for her was to give her what she wanted. Even….even if it takes her away from me."

He paused trying to gather his words. It was difficult to say these things in front of her without getting emotional and he would sooner walk away then allow her to see any more of his tears. He had to the draw the line somewhere. "Besides," he began trying to sound less concerned then he felt. To do so he started glancing around everywhere except at her. His eyes landing on the ceiling, the floor, past the columns, but never on her face. "Chip is a good boy-" He paused again and thought about this, then corrected himself. "Good man. He will take care of her. And I suppose as long as he doesn't do anything too stupid-"

At this moment Christian's eyes had flitted back towards Chip and Sophia and he nearly bit through his tongue. "Like that!" he shouted as he gave the pair further examination. Taking a ginger step towards the railing he glared down at his daughter and future son-in-law in the garden who were apparently unaware they were being watched. Otherwise they would not be as comfortable with each other as they were becoming.

"Now that is very inappropriate! Stop it! You two, stop it!" Belle came to stand next to him, her hands resting softly on the railing, as she shook with silent laughter at Christian's exaggerated reaction. Growling angrily he looked over at Belle. "They're not listening to me!" he said, gritting his teeth. Turning himself totally about on his good heel he faced the opposite direction just as a maid was strolling past, her arms full of clean linens. Christian pointed at her and said very commandingly "You!"

With a start, the poor little thing stopped immediately and dropped the linens she was holding. She looked at Christian with worry, wondering what she had done wrong and curtsied very quickly to cover it. "Yes, your highness?" she said, ducking her head submissively. Belle would have smiled kindly at her if she had been looking in her direction.

"You, go down to the rose garden and tell Chip to keep his hands off my daughter! Then remind him that he is not married to her yet and I will beat him within and inch of his life if he tries anything before then!"

The young maid looked up at Christian, her eyes alight with curiosity. "They are getting married?" She asked, seeming to have not heard much after that initial concept.

Christian rolled his eyes, wondering if he was ever going to find an intelligent person to work for him. "You can gossip about it later! And while you are down there tell that idiot boy that as soon as he is finished planting rose bushes, he is to pack his bags. He's coming with me to Paris. That way I can keep an eye on him."

The maid blinked several times wondering what this all could mean and bursting to go shouting about her wonderful bit of news to all the ladies in the kitchens. Christian gave her a sufficient glare. "Well, don't stand there gawking at me, get going! Shew!"

The maid, fearing her masters glares far more then any punishment, scooped up her bundle on the floor quickly and scampered away as quickly as possible. Belle shook her head at Christian while his was turned away, but refrained from criticizing him for scaring the maid. He made a jerking motion with his head, glanced back in the direction of Chip and Sophia, shuddered for a moment and then looked back at Belle. "Come, I'll be sick if I watch any more of that. He's lucky I don't throw my boot down at him!"

To his relief, Belle laughed sympathetically at him and then walked alongside as he used his crutches to navigate down the walkway. It was slow going and for the first time in her life Belle had to slow her own pace down to match his instead of the other way around. It made her smile.

They walked in silence for a few paces, both listening to the rhythmic clicking of wood on the stone walkway. Christian breathed deeply through his nose and out his mouth as he wondered what to say next to keep Belle from thinking he was ignoring her. For a moment he turned his head to look again at her beautiful profile and considered what she would do if he were to reach his hand over and touch her cheek as they walked. For that moment he relaxed his hand on the rung of his crutch and without realizing it, twisted his foot to the side. It caught slightly on the edge of his other crutch and he quickly turned his body to try and overcompensate for his loss of balance. Letting out a startled "Oh!" he tipped the opposite way and latched a hold of the railing behind him. Throwing his weight against the wall he concentrated hard on not pressing his broken leg into the ground to steady himself. Quickly looking about, two of his guards had taken several steps in his direction upon seeing their King stumble. Belle had also come quite close to him but had then jumped back to avoid his falling crutches. Her face was set in alarm and pity as he finally allowed the foot on his good leg to press firmly into the ground.

He looked quickly from one of the alerted guard's faces to the next and then let his eyes rest on Belle. He felt his face go warm with embarrassment and glared at the ground; his hands still held firmly to the railing he had used to catch him. His anger at himself showed clearly on his face and he waited a moment to steady himself before taking a hopping step towards one of his fallen crutches. Belle strode over to his outreaching hands and made to bend over to retrieve it for him. With a noise of irritation Christian pushed her hand away all the while holding his other arm out, trying not to actually fall over this time.

"Don't! I can get them myself." He said with more then a little irritation. For a moment they regarded each other with narrowed eyes. Neither understanding the others thoughts and intentions. The sweetness of having her walking beside him was gone with his reminder of how pathetic he must actually be. Or at least that's what he thought of himself. In that moment something changed between them; something that should have been changed a long time ago. Under these same circumstances, before Christian had told Belle the truth, she would have listened to him and given him his space. Taken his words to heart and passed them off as him actually not needing her the way she needed him. Belle knew better now and with the smallest of smiles she shook her head and then bent over again and retrieved the crutches from off the ground. Christian opened his mouth to protest but something on her face changed his mind. She was smiling at him and it had been such a long time that she had smiled at him to the point that it filled him with warmth that he couldn't bring himself to be angry with her. Even if the smile seemed condescending to him. Perhaps in his long absence of happiness he would take anything, even pity, from his wife.

Belle held the crutches for a moment and ran her hands along the rungs that Christian used to keep himself erect during these past few weeks. He seemed so determined to prove that he didn't need any help and allowed no one to touch him as he labored to just get from one room to the other. Belle took a slow step towards him and then another and then another. Christian held very still looking at her with such uncertainty in his eyes, not knowing why she was doing what she was doing. After all that he had done to her he wanted her to laugh cruelly at his clumsiness and prove to him how inferior he really was.

Even if Belle were capable of doing any such thing, for Christian, she would rather die. With gentleness she handed Christian one of his crutches and he placed it under his arm and then the other but allowed their hands to meet and for a moment she did not let go of the wood so that he would have to touch her and be touched by her. No one moved and Christian wondered if he was dreaming because she seemed to see right into him as he caught his breath, her hand on his. With a touch of humility he diverted his eyes to the ground.

"I'm sorry." He whispered to her as quiet as he was capable.

Belle took another inch towards him, their hands still close to one another. "What are you sorry for?"

Christian shrugged for a moment, searching for the right words. "For stumbling. For being pathetic."

Belle's eyes tightened and a frown came across her face. "You didn't mean to stumble, so there isn't a reason for you to be sorry."

Again Christian shrugged his large shoulders and refused to look at her. "I'm sorry for hurting you…I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm sorry for everything, Belle."

She didn't say anything and he was certain that he didn't want to see the continued look of hurt in her eyes. He heard her take a deep breath and then without warning felt her soft lips on his cheek. They stayed there for what could have been forever had he wanted them to be. Turning her head to the side, her cheek stayed smooth against his jaw line and she reached a hand to caress the soft part of his neck. He wanted to look up, wanted to speak, wanted to shiver but could do nothing but allow her to touch him. She never told him it was alright, never absolved his guilt, but he knew that in her heart she was already forgiving all his faults. That was enough for him.

Finally she whispered with soft tenderness. "You need to go and get ready to leave. Your advisors will be looking for you."

Christian made a slight turn of his head to protest but knew it was useless. It never mattered how much he didn't want to leave he would still have to.

Gripping her hand that was still touching his he murmured, "Are you going to be alright, planning this wedding?"

He felt her nod her head against him and she smiled, though he could feel it wasn't a very genuine one. "It will give me something to do while I wait. Things should be ready by the time you return. Is it going to be six months this time?"

Frowning hard he shook his head. "No. Just three. I'm going to be back for your birthday."

Belle finally lifted her face and met his eyes as he immediately missed her soft cheek against his own. "That's silly. You don't need to rush your journey for my birthday."

For a moment she saw something dark move through his eyes as if he was seeing something she could not. Then his jaw set in resolve and he looked down on her with finality. "I will be home in time for your birthday celebration. Whatever doesn't get done before that will just have to wait."

Belle opened her mouth to argue and then realized that she really didn't want to. She wanted him to come to her birthday celebration. He had not been there in six years. A spark of hope lifted her heart from the bottom of her shoes and back into her breast where it belonged. Regardless of whether she thought it likely that he would be able to get back in time for her birthday, it was the fact that he wanted to that made all the difference to her in the world. A soft smile spread across her face as she looked up at him and he nodded his head calmly, not letting her know exactly what that smile was doing to him.

Unable to stop himself he reached out his now free hand to her face and touched it so softly along her cheek and down her jaw line. He wanted her in the most painful and agonizing way and knew with such certainly that he could not have her. Not yet. He had not earned her back yet. It wasn't fair either way and he knew that he was going to do anything he could not to be in this situation any longer and ever again.

Softly he looked into her chocolate eyes and allowed all the longing to wash over him. "I love you…" He whispered to her. He wouldn't leave again without her hearing him say it.

"I love you too." She whispered back. Then without another word he adjusted his stance with his crutches and turned away from her and began to make his way down the walkway alone. He didn't look back though. If he were to look back and see how her face had changed to such heart-wrenching sadness as he turned and left her standing there he would have run back to her. Despite all pain and misfortune in would have caused because to know that she wanted him too was all he ever dreamed of.

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**As always, please forgive all spelling and grammar mistakes you may have found. I'm not an English teacher...**


	40. Wilhelm

_Authors Note: Alright so the real reason this chapter took so long is because 1. It has nothing to do with Christian or Belle and therefore isn't that interesting to me. 2. I have had the WORST semester of my entire life and I'm lucky I haven't committed some homicide due to increased stress. 3. I am getting to the end of the story and it's like finishing the last mile of a marathon. It's the hardest to wrap up a story. BUT here it is. The best I can possibly do, considering. I had to have some chapter to finish Wilhelm's story and set up a big finale. You'll like it, I think. Even as I type I'm thinking of new ways to write the next chapter I had not thought of the whole time I've been writing this story._

_Due to the fact that this was so incredibly hard for me I would implore my gentle readers to write a few reviews for comfort purposes. They don't have to be astounding ones. They can even be questions. I'll answer those pretty quick-like._

_Now…. If only For You Blue would write another chapter to her story I would be set!_

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**Chapter Forty: Wilhelm**

Wilhelm was asleep when a loud noise inside his shack caused him to stir. Only his father had been pure immortal and so sleep was a necessary annoyance he had to endure due to his mortal body. But that didn't stop all the magical spells of alarm he had set around himself to go off in a frenzy of lights and sounds. Sitting up with a start, in his bed he had conjured for himself, he looked around wildly and wondered what it was that had awoken him and how long he had been asleep. With a startled movement he waved his hand in a circular motion to allow the spells of alarm to cease and then brought the heel of his hand to his eyes to try and rub some of the sleepiness out of them. He shook his head vigorously and realized he must have been asleep for quite a while or else he wouldn't feel this groggy. His spell must have run it's course by now, but what was the outcome?

Shaking his head, his mess of dark hair swirled around him and he finally opened his black, pupil-less eyes to scan the room. Something wasn't right, the air had changed, the lighting was different and a strangely distinct odor had hit his nose long before his eyes alighted on the source of what had set off his carefully laid out alarms.

He immediately felt sick as Aislin turned her head to look at him deeply with her emerald green irises. She was sitting comfortably on the table in the middle of the room. Its contents were pushed aside for her rich shimmering gown and she seemed quite out of place in the dusty little shack. Wilhelm sat frozen for what felt like hours as he stared at her, his eyes totally focused on hers to show that he wasn't afraid, that he wasn't even worried that she had somehow penetrated his defenses and found his hideout. Finally with the most soothing of voices, she gave her head a small nod. "Hello Wilhelm." She said softly.

With a grunt of disgust he tossed the covers back from his tatty little bed and ran a hand along his bare torso. His stomach grumbled angrily at him as he felt how prominent his ribs were becoming the more he refused to eat. He hated that he had to. Hated that his mother had been so disgracefully mortal and had not one shred of magical capability in her body so that now he was forced to do all the necessary things it took to survive as a mortal. Nothing was more infuriating for him then to have almost completed a complicated spell and to suddenly have to relieve himself so badly that his legs shook. He glared in Aislin's direction and grabbed his robe from off the chair, pulling it on over his naked body. It wasn't that he really cared who saw him naked, it was more that he wanted to seem more threatening then he would in just his skin. With a whirl that would have made his father proud he turned himself about to face her, refusing to cower in the corner, though he rather wished that was an option for him.

"I would ask how you found me but to be honest I really don't care."

Aislin cocked her head to the side as if considering this. "Well that's unfortunate. I think you'd be pleased to know that it wasn't easy in the slightest."

She was right, that did please him. But not enough, since she had found him in the end. It wasn't a good sign at all.

For a moment no one spoke and Wilhelm wondered what angle she was playing in this game. That was how she worked and he knew it. She toyed with people like a cat and it made him hate her even more since he was certain he was her next game piece.

Wilhelm was still a very young man, even by mortal standards. He had not really gained the wisdom that comes with age and so without even thinking of the consequences he approached Aislin as if she were a particularly obnoxious bug that had somehow worked it's way into his home. She was still seated on his table, her dress barely brushing the floor. Placing a hand on either side of where her hips would be he leaned in very closely to her face, their noses only inches apart.

"I'll have you know that you do not frighten me. You may frighten the rest of the counsel and even all those mortals you use as puppets but you do not frighten me Aislin!"

Aislin focused deeply into Wilhelm and held him there for a moment. Not answering, no surprise or trepidation entering any part of her countenance. In fact, his statement seemed to have the reversal effect on her.

With a sad line across her mouth she reached her hands up quickly and ran them along the side of his face, along his pointed ears and down to his mouth as if affirming something she had been wondering. "Oh Wilhelm," she whispered in a sad voice. "What have you done to yourself?"

Wilhelm threw himself back at her touch. It sent shivers up and down his spine and he hated how she was able to pierce him with her stare. He wasn't entirely sure what his last spell had done to his appearance but he knew it wasn't anything good. He had dipped his fingers too far into magic for it have left him alone and he was sure that Aislin was referring to some transformation in his eyes and his ears. Indeed he made a small gesture as if to wipe his mouth and allowed his tongue to grace his fingers. It confirmed that it was now as forked as a snake's.

Rubbing the spit on his jaw line he glared hatred at Aislin and kept himself at several paces distance away from her.

"Hypocrite!" He spat out at her. "Take a look in the mirror! Or have you not noticed that you hardly resemble those mortals you love so much!"

For a moment Aislin looked vulnerable which was something Wilhelm had never seen her do. She reached a hand up and touched her pointed ear and her eyes gave a faraway look that spoke of loss and longing.

Then quite suddenly her countenance changed and she seemed to emanate light. It was out of place in Wilhelm's dank shack and he wanted to cringe away from it. Her eyes bore into him once more and he was acutely aware of just how vulnerable he was at this point. His mind raced over every possibility of what he could do to somehow wriggle his way out of this mess but nothing would come to him. Possibly because there was nothing to be done. He was doomed and he knew it. He had willingly stirred up a magical hornets nest and disturbed Christian's perfect little world Aislin had laid out for him. Raising his chin up, he at least determined that he would face it the way his father would have.

Aislin quirked her perfect eyebrow. "You were specifically told not to meddle in the affairs of magic Wilhelm. You have defied the council and they are not pleased."

Wilhelm gazed at her with hatred and then spat on the ground in front of her with as much spite as was possible.

"I care not for the council and their arrogant assumption that they have any right to reign over anyone that possesses even a measure of magic!"

"Oh Wilhelm!" Aislin looked at him with exasperation. "What makes you think that you would have been so much better off with Jerreth? A break with the council would have resulted in a rift with magic for you."

"What do you think I was trying to do! A rift would be better then fading out as you are doing every day, you hag!"

The insult stung despite Aislin's pretended non-reaction. "Trying?" she said cocking her eyebrow up. "Have you ceased to try?"

Wilhelm's face darkened to the same ugly look he had given Sophia when he had performed the spell. She was mocking him now and he would not stand for it. He wondered if there was some glimmer of hope. Some possible way that his spell had somehow managed to run it's course. He had banked so hard on the need for Sophia to be as ignorant and selfish as she had seemed. Spells were always broken by the person who had helped to make them and the fact of the matter was that he knew his spell was shoddy work at best. He just didn't know what he was doing.

"Do not play with me Enchantress." He murmured with a very satisfying growl to his voice. "What do you know?"

Her eyes fluttered so that only slits showed her actual irises before she answered. "I know that you tried to get my Christian killed and you used his daughter to do it."

Wilhelm smirked as if she hadn't even come close, to buy himself some time. "Is that so?" He said hoping she would buy it but knowing secretly that she wouldn't.

"Yes, it's so. And the council is calling for your head, boy. They have deemed you too dangerous to keep in this world."

For a moment Wilhelm felt a sense of pride. To be deemed too dangerous could be perceived as a compliment if that had been your intent. The hardness around the Enchantress's eyes would have been frightening but the problem with Aislin was that she could never hold it for very long. For an immortal her heart was strangely a bleeding one.

Wilhelm glanced around the room and thought deeply about what that meant for the council to decree him unfit to keep in this world. How easily he had been tossed from place to place his whole life and how easily they were now going to dispose of him.

"Is that what you are here for then? To 'cast me into the gap'? It's so amusing how you believe that anyone would be so clueless as to realize that you're simply here to stretch me thin of what little ability I have and then slit my freshly magic-less throat."

Aislin gave him a long look before answering. "As it is, I never thought anyone would buy that lie. It isn't physically possible anyways. More of the immortals exaggerating their abilities. But since you seem to understand so clearly then, yes, that is what the council is calling for."

Wilhelm lifted his chin and placed a hand on the table to steady himself. It was the only indication to Aislin that he had even acknowledged what she had just said. He glared at her with pure hatred and snorted through his nose like a bull.

"Well then I'm glad that Christian is dead! It is a little consolation to know I could make someone suffer!"

Aislin's mouth turned into a thin line as she wondered if this was real or if it was just more of Wilhelm's walls of defense he put up around himself. Violent and misguided as they may be.

"Then I regret to inform you that while your efforts were substantial, Christian is doing just fine. If it makes you feel any better you can know that he causes himself to suffer daily just by being who he is. It's something of a vicious cycle for him."

Wilhelm felt like the air had left his chest. His mind ran over every little detail of his spell and wondered exactly what had happened to cause it to go awry. In a last shred of hope he bounded over to the curtained covered wall where the magical mirror hung. Whispering a quick incantation the image swirled and then cleared to reveal what he most dreaded.

Inside the mirror sat a very exhausted looking Christian. From the looks of the surroundings it would appear that he was in a carriage of some sort. He was asleep sitting up and his body rocked back and forth to the movement of the horses. At his side sat a boy Wilhelm did not know with striking white-blond hair. The boy couldn't be older then twenty-five but with his eyes closed he seemed ever so much younger and in their sleep both men seemed to have leaned over onto one another. Their heads rested against each other in a manner they would have been embarrassed by if they had known anyone was watching. The boy's mouth hung open in his sleep and he seemed to be drooling just a bit onto Christian's shoulder.

But for all intents and purposes Christian was alive and well though a little worse for wear.

Wilhelm's shoulders sagged considerably, all the hope rushing out of him. Now he would never be able to gain enough power to do anything more then huddle in this shack. He decided it was a very good thing she was having him killed because his half life he was living wasn't worth anything to him anymore.

"Merde!" He whispered to himself wishing his language would shock her.

Suddenly she roughly pushed him aside as if he were nothing more then a piece of furniture adorning the room. She stepped in front of the mirror and gazed onto its blank surface glaring furiously through her pupil-less eyes. Then whirling around she placed a protective hand on the mirrors frame.

"This is mine!" she seethed into his face. "I've been looking for it ever since I used it to create Christian's mirror. Where did you get it?"

Wilhelm allowed the very briefest surprise to cross his face before he set it back into a sarcastic smirk. Behind the smirk his mind was putting puzzle pieces together. In truth he had always assumed the mirror was his fathers. He had left it to Wilhelm after the council had come for him, leaving his son with no one who could help him develop his magical capabilities. The boy had spent countless hours asking it to show him Jerreth but it had only wielded the same image of a common forest clearing where a fire had recently burnt a large hole into it's middle. It hadn't taken Wilhelm much longer after that to realize that the mirror was in fact showing him his father, or what was left of him.

"If it matters so much to you then you're welcome to pry it off my dead carcass after you've finished me." He replied sinisterly.

She turned back to the mirror and looked at it with a troubled expression. "So this is how you discovered Sophia. I used magic to protect the castle and its occupants from most of our kind but I never used my own magic on myself. This was as good as you being there wasn't it?"

Wilhelm didn't answer. He couldn't stand the look of understanding on her face as she was figuring him out.

"You know, you gave her quite a scare. You should know better then to use her adolescence against her as you were perfectly aware that she didn't know any better."

Wilhelm snorted. "That's the point of using someone isn't it? You're not using them if they know what you are doing." He shook his head as if he thought she were stupider then he had supposed.

"Except that you of all people should know what it's like to be distanced from your parents."

Wilhelm's eyes suddenly trained on Aislin and he took a menacing step towards her, all airs of charade gone from his stance. He was genuinely angry now and she realized that she had touched a very sensitive nerve, finally.

"And you would know wouldn't you? You must have loved seeing my mother die, knowing it was your rule my father had broken that had caused him to be banished from any contact with the mortals."

Aislin raised a curious eyebrow and looked at the boy in front of her for a long time. Then finally she spoke. "Did your father tell you she was dead?"

If Wilhelm had possessed any patience he would have lost it at this point. "Oh, do not toy with me Enchantress! She has been dead since the council put her out of her misery. Everyone knows that! All because of your edict that stated that immortals and humans could not share common relationships. I have more reasons to hate you then anyone!"

Wilhelm's face was flushing considerably and Aislin was pleased over this. Any scratches of humanity she could delve up were welcome sights. Still the look of absolute loathing was troubling to her. If Wilhelm was going to hate her she wanted it to be for something she deserved. Turning herself around again she gazed into the blank reflection of the mirror. Then taking a step back she whispered her own incantation and another image appeared on the surface. There before her was the picture of a woman. Her hair was braided and tied close to her head but a small circlet adorned her temples and she had a soft smile on her lips. Her eyes held a few wrinkles and underneath their lovely blackness there was sadness. She was sitting in a comfortable looking chair and had a silly little dog on her lab that was consistently trying to make a daring escape from her small but strong hands.

Wilhelm's eyes trained over the image in the mirror and wondered what the woman was doing that was causing her to sit so still when he realized she must be having her portrait painted. He glared at the woman wondering what kind of games Aislin was trying to play now.

"What is this? Who is this person?" He said turning his face from the woman's indifferent eyes as she gazed around herself not really settling on anything. Aislin did not take her own away from Wilhelm. He met her look with that same indifference as the woman, though he did not realize the similarity, or at least did not want to yet.

Aislin didn't answer his questions. Merely allowed her green eyes to linger on the woman's face. She was as beautiful as the Enchantress had remembered and her age only made her more so. "She's lovely isn't she? Her portrait will be stunning once it's finished."

Wilhelm wanted to scoff and scorn at the Enchantress. Her tricks will not work on me, he thought to himself. This is just a strange trick! A ruse to make him drop his guard so that she could…. Well he wasn't sure what she would want from him that she wasn't already going to take away anyways. He looked around the room suspicious of any moment he spent staring at the mirror while she was still in the shack. Then suddenly the woman spoke through the mirror. She gave a soft laugh and it echoed into the caverns of Wilhelm's brain and sent his attentions rocking back towards the clear surface. The woman of the mirror seemed to look directly at him and smiled softly before addressing whomever she was really looking at.

"Well yes, I do suppose so!" She said amiably to the person unseen. "It doesn't seem like I have been sitting here this long. I think a nice warm cup of tea will do just the trick." Her laugh was rich and velvety. It flowed over like warm chocolate and something inside Wilhelm stirred. He wasn't sure what caused him to do it, but just as she made to stand, letting the jumpy little dog race off ahead of her, Wilhelm reached out his hand until the tips of his fingers graced the surface of the mirror. This caused a small ripple to blur the picture and it once again resumed it's blank glassy state. Then roughly shaking his head he turned his face away from the mirror. He had not known the woman. He willed his brain to comprehend this. 'She is a creation of the Enchantress to confuse you!' he thought roughly to himself. So then, in that strange moment, why did he feel such a strong connection to the woman? Her voice had sounded like something long ago forgotten. An echo that he wanted to remember but had not been heard in so long that the memory itself was nothing but an imprint.

Wilhelm was so shaken by this strange fleeting fancy, this odd moment of real emotion, that he couldn't speak for a moment. To his utter astonishment his heart actually ached when, he Wilhelm, had doubted its existence in the first place.

Turning his face back to the Enchantress he set it into hard rigid lines that spoke anger and malice and said with venom. "I do not know this woman."

Unfortunately he could not hide the doubt in his eyes and Aislin saw it. Grabbing on that one notion for dear life, she challenged him. "We both know that is not true. You may not be able to remember her, but just as surly as your mortal heart beats in your chest you know this woman. And not only that, deep down, I suspect you know that she is your mother."

Instant red hot rage coursed through Wilhelm's body and he roared. "My mother is dead! You killed her! How dare you mock me with her!"

Aislin didn't move a muscle. Not a twitch escaped her as Wilhelm came terrifying close to striking her. They stood there glaring at each other, faces inches away.

"No Wilhelm, I didn't. What do you think I would stand to gain from killing this mortal?"

"You were jealous! Jealous because my father and my mother loved each other and you couldn't stand the thought of them being happy together when you couldn't be with your pathetic mortal family!"

The Enchantress felt deep pity for this poor deluded boy in front of her. For all his crimes he really was harboring some strange notion that his father had ever had noble intentions. He was defending the dead man's honor.

But Aislin could not afford to expend too much pity on this boy. It wouldn't help him in the long run. She paused for a moment, considering her words.

"Wilhelm," she began evenly. "Haven't you ever wondered why it is that your father kept you locked away from the world so long? Did it not seem strange that he never took you along on his journeys, but left you alone here in this shack?"

"He did not keep me locked up!"

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow in mock confusion. "Then pray-tell, what was it you were doing all these years, invisible to the council?"

Wilhelm faltered then because for the first time in his existence an itching doubt was creeping into his subconscious. Not enough to break him, but enough to give him pause.

"I was studying…" He said quietly. "I was preparing to become a great guardian."

Again Aislin felt a stab of pity for the poor boy. "Wilhelm, you could never have become a guardian. You are half-mortal and thus not powerful enough to achieve guardianship. Your father understood this."

He stood motionless in front of her wondering what to say next. All his resolve of anger and hatred were being replaced by weaker emotions. Betrayal, hurt, pain. He was unintentionally forgetting how to breath. "No, he promised me!" He said, still trying to hold onto that anger.

She shook her head, knowing she would have to be cruel for the message to get across. "He lied to you, Wilhelm. Just as he lied to you about your mother. He never loved her. He used her as he had done many mortal women and then left her to be banished by her own parents, always wondering what became of her baby boy who was the reason for her banishment."

Suddenly Wilhelm reacted as if she had struck him. He cringed and then burst into a rage that lasted as long as it took to knock everything he could off the table in the middle of the room. All his well kept supplies and tokens for the spells he was able to perform in his underdeveloped magical state. When they had all crashed to the floor, the table was overturned with them.

"It's not true! You're lieing!" he shrieked at her, all calm and resolve gone.

She turned her face away from his tantrum, then looked at him with sympathetic eyes that were beyond maddening. "You know, you aren't that much different from Christian, as much as you'd like to deny it. You both have fathers who in many ways, ruined you, both princes, though you were never raised as such, you still have the lineage. And you both exhibit horrible tempers. You'll need to learn to curb that one day, Wilhelm, it could get you into trouble."

Wilhelm looked at her with absolute hatred. "Go to hell." He whispered, knowing his words were meaningless to her. He hated that she had spoke against his father. Hated more, that he was starting to believe her. Puzzle pieces that had not made any sense were now fitting properly into place. They painted a picture he did not like because it not only made him look like complete fool, but also because now he had no purpose to his existence. He was stuck in this shack and had no one to turn to.

Aislin sighed, "I probably will. But first I must deal with you, my little Wilhelm."

He turned his face away wondering what the strange feeling was he had behind his eyes. It prickled and stung and he hated it. His voice sounded murderous but the words that came out were pitiful. "She's really alive?"

Aislin nodded her head, "Yes and perhaps someday you'll get a chance to explain to her why she didn't get to watch you grow up. Though, hopefully by then you'll have grown up enough to show her a real man and not the pathetic thing your father was turning you into."

Wilhelm's face registered a spark of surprise. "What do you mean?"

She cocked her head as if considering his shape and size. "I have plans for you Wilhelm."

Instead of feeling relief that she wasn't going to strip him of his powers and trot him off to the council for burning, he felt instant fear. In Aislin's world there were worse things then death. He had watched Christian change into the Beast and it wasn't a pleasant sight. Turning his face to stone he stood immobile and watched her as she circled him.

"What will it be this time, witch?"

Having known and liked several real witches in her life, the insult didn't affect her. "Well you're awfully slippery. Yet you seem to have a deep self-hatred for what you are. Perhaps if I turn you into something everyone hates you'll come to appreciate it."

Wilhelm stood his ground, not giving her any notion that he cared, though his stomach was twisting itself into knots with fear. "Then get on with it. I hope that one day someone does to you the same as you have gone and done to people like me."

She glared at him. "You croak like a frog, now become one!"

She made a complicated motion with her hand that Wilhelm could only dream of mastering the magic behind it and instantly he began to change. Thrusting his hands onto his stomach he dropped into a low crouch as the pain twisted and turned his organs into wretched lumps. "I've already heard that story.." he mumbled to her, trying to have the last word.

She gazed down at him unaffected. "I borrowed it. But the actual witch who cast the original spell said I could use it as long as it was _her_ changed prince the story-tellers talked about. Since I already had Christian I didn't mind the stipulation at all. His tale will last forever, long after you and I are gone."

At this point Wilhelm's vocal cords were so constricted that he couldn't answer any retorts through the pain. It was terrible and his face showed it. He collapsed onto the ground and screamed through muffled voice. His legs snapped into the opposite direction they were supposed to go and his skin began to ooze the slimy mucus of an amphibian. At this point Wilhelm's eyes had melted into his already reshaping skull and she was able to turn her face away in anguish. His resounding screams and sobs echoed into her brain and would remain there for the rest of her eternity. Her ability to be cruel lasted only as far as she forced it to go to do what needed to be done.

At last the noise of the change stopped and she was able to turn around and look at the bump that was hidden somewhere inside Wilhelm's robes. Surprisingly enough it moved and Aislin was impressed with his ability to endure that much pain and still remain conscious. Taking a cautious step over in his direction Wilhelm poked his froggy head out front the arm-hole of the robe and darted his eyes back and forth. He would get used to the new distorted eyesight. In time he would even learn to speak and she begged any God that would hear her that he would make a friend someone to listen to him. Someone to love him.

She reached down her hands slowly and wrapped them around his fat, squishy little body. He wiggled in her hands but was too weak to do much more then slump over and breath quickly.

"Come along, dear. Let's go find you a nice pond to soak in until spring comes around again."

She held the frog close to herself so that he wouldn't slip through her fingers. Despite what he had said, she doubted he actually knew the stipulations of this particular spell. And for reasons only she could fathom she made the decision not to tell him. In some ways he was very like Christian, but unlike Christian he had been given a good deal more training and had a much greater knowledge of the very magic that had changed him. What Wilhelm needed was humanity and she had faith that he would figure it out. He would someday allow someone to love him enough to make him their friend. It would have to be a very good friend, though. Nothing less would make anyone want to kiss a frog.

* * *

The banks of the pond were blanketed with snow but the pond itself wasn't frozen. It would be cold but Wilhelm would be protected by the spell so he wouldn't freeze. She had set him gently into the water and he had yet to resurface. She wondered if she would ever see him in person ever again. She wondered if she had thought the same thing about Christian, after she had cast that fateful spell all those years ago. Setting herself gently onto a log near the waters edge she wrapped her arms around her knees and just like a child, she wept.

The chill of the snow wasn't able to cover the scent of Delano approaching her. As silent as death he set his shadowy self next to her and would have set his hand comfortingly onto her shoulder had she not inched away from him. It was hurtful and he was surprised at the feeling. In fact he was always surprised by the feelings she caused to erupt inside him. Feelings he had not felt in so long he could not even remember when he had felt them originally. Friendship, hope, and even desire.

He shook his head, his dark face casting shadows all around him. "Aislin, what have you done?"

Her eyes glared into him and he might have felt some kind of inner pain over it had it not been for the look of her face. It had changed. She had obviously delved very far into magic this time because her features were shifted. Her nose was a little smaller, her eyes a little rounder, but more so where the small vines growing all along her cheeks and around her brow-bone. Small flowers also seemed to be sprouting out of her beautiful butter-yellow hair. She was changing and it wouldn't be long before she wouldn't be able to weep as she was thus doing. Her humanity would be totally gone.

Delano looked at her and actually felt grief for her. She turned her face away and looked at her hands, still so human.

"I made sure you couldn't touch him, Delano."

He closed his eyes and looked at her in disbelief. "The council is furious with you. They ordered you to strip the boy of his powers and then I was to take him to be-"

"Killed! Don't pretend with me Delano! There is NO gap between worlds! You were going to kill him. That's what you do! You kill people!"

Delano sat back and looked at her with betrayal on his face. "The boy tried to destroy us! Why would you protect him?"

"Because that's just it! He's only a boy. Oh, you don't have to worry about his magic. He'll never be able to touch any ever again. Even if he's able to break this spell someday he'll be a mortal for the rest of his mortal life. But he will have a chance. I made sure. I cast a spell that will protect him from any guardian coming near him."

Delano closed his eyes and tried to digest this information. "Aislin… The council will punish you for this…"

"No they won't," she answered "I'm too important to them. I'm the only one who can strip an immortal."

They sat in silence with this for a moment. Then with gentleness he reached his hand out and caressed her long swirling hair. To him it was so beautiful, but to her it was hateful. It was another reminder of her return to magic.

"Well, you got what you wanted. So why are you weeping?"  
She didn't look at him, but she didn't ask him to stop touching her either. That was something. "We were wrong, Delano. We shouldn't have interfered the way we have. We have done terrible things to people. Mortals and Immortals alike."

He shook his head swiftly. "But… But we've done so many good things too! We've saved many lives."

"At what cost? Who were we to decide other people's fate? Just because we are guardians? Who decided that we had dominion over another person?"

Delano didn't know what to say to this. Finally he spoke, "I don't know, Aislin. Only that this is my existence now and I must keep doing what I can to aid the council. There isn't a choice for me anymore."

For a moment they regarded one another. Finally she nodded her head, the anger leaving her. "I know."

"What are you going to do?"

She paused for a moment deciding what best to say. "I'm going to tell him. He deserves to know."

Delano gave her a puzzled look. "Why? Aside from removing the mystery of where his spell came from what could you possibly do for him that would change what happened?"

Aislin didn't answer for a long while and soon Delano realized where he was missing the answer. "He is the one. You lied to me. He's the one Wilhelm was talking about."

She looked down for a moment and then nodded, knowing it really didn't matter anymore.

Delano took her hands and realized that whatever else happened he wanted her to know that he cared. He loved her and always would. But since they could never be together then the best he could do for her was help her do what she needed to do. "Then you must go and protect him. Don't let something like this happen ever again, Aislin. I'll make sure the Council never finds out. Now, go! Don't waste anymore time sobbing by this pond. Go!"

Aislin placed a gentle hand on his dark cheek and wished, for just a moment that she could love him, the way he loved her. Then with a snap of her fingers she was gone and he was left alone at the ponds edge. He watched as a large, overly attentive frog bobbed to the surface and then splashed back under the water, just as he too vanished with a puff of smoke.


	41. The Enchantress

_**Authors Note:** So you want to hear something funny? Every time I finally get a chapter out I almost forget how to upload it onto the fanfiction website because it's been so long since I've done it last.….. Okay not really that funny._

_Here is another chapter that may or may not be considered boring. I actually happen to like it but then… I know what's going to happen next. In allot of fanfiction I've read the Enchantress is a pretty ominous character and as I have striven to do throughout this whole story, I gave her a background. I like to believe there is so much more to what the Enchantress was doing that night then what we were shown. It does not necessarily mean this is what I think should be connected as a whole to the story of Beauty and the Beast, it's just for this particular story and I think it fits. I like the dialogue and the connection. I am also rather proud of the last few lines at the end. I felt rather clever with the way they referred to the story as a whole  
_

_Just so everyone can know I am not Catholic and so if I used a term wrong or something I apologize. I am religious though so it's not like I'm showing my true feelings through Christian. He can do whatever he likes. I also did in fact reference "The Hunchback of Notre Dame". Points to who spots it._

_Once again, apologies to any spelling or grammatical errors. I tend to go a bit comma happy when I don't know what else to do with a sentence so if there are comma's in inappropriate places. Opps…._

_Oh, and please review. I know you are out there reading this. I get the emails saying you've marked it for a story alert or as one of your favorite stories. So I know there is at least a few people still out there. Reviews actually prove to me it's your favorite story! But questions and flamers are welcome too. If it helps I will apologize for taking so long to get it out... Okay?  
_

_Hugs and cookies!_

_Inspiration for this chapter was "The Scientist" by Coldplay. Unorthodox perhaps for this relationship but I thought it had a good feel to it._

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you, tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions  
Oh, let's go back to the start  
Running in circles, coming up tails  
Heads on a science apart

Nobody said it was easy  
It's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be this hard  
Oh, take me back to the start

**Chapter Forty-One: The Enchantress**

**

* * *

**

It was snowing outside. Thick soft flakes were falling to the ground increasingly as Christian's royal carriage crossed the gates of Rose castle and finally stopped in front of the main walkway leading to the doors.

Christian hated November. The only good thing that ever came in November was Belle's birthday and as he had not attended that event in over six years he had grown to truly dislike November. He didn't much like December, January, February, and most of March as well. This was all due to the fact that Christian did not like to be cold. It was true that he may not have minded it as a child. Children don't seem to notice it anyways and he had been a strange child who liked to do things like sleep out in the barn with his pony. But when he had transformed back from being a Beast he had found out very quickly that his once naturally heated body was gone. As an animal he had always been warm, running outside in the snow, cutting around trees and lapping up water in unfrozen ponds. But as a human he was pathetically naked and skinny and horribly unable to ever get warm enough. He had always made excuses to snuggle up closer to Belle in their bed on cold nights and allow her to warm him up, letting her think he was feeling tender, when really, he was just trying not to shiver. During the past six years he had taken to sleeping on the floor in front of the well built fire. It was more comfortable for him anyways, having spent ten years as a hulking monster sleeping on the floor, he rather enjoyed the warm stone underneath him. Not every night, but often enough during the winter-time.

The carriage wobbled for a moment as his footman dismounted and then quickly opened his door for him. He groaned and muttered an oath before slowly and painfully getting to his feet. He was tired, frigged, sore, cold, dirty, frozen stiff, frustrated, chilled, heart-sore, and shivering. Pushing his hands against the insulated walls of the carriage he poked his head outside the open door and was greeted with frozen rain stabbing his eyes and splashing up his nose. He pulled his head back in quickly and snorted once. Then pulling his hood back over his head he snatched his cane lying on the seat before carefully dismounting the conveyance. The footman put a steadying hand on his sovereign's arm and directed Christian towards the front door as his hood impaired his sight through the downpour. He made his way as quickly as possible to the doors and waited for only two seconds to slip in through the crack as his doormen were scrambling to open the heavy entrances. Christian's personal man-servants were scuttling behind him, exhausted and bone-cold and both rushed from behind him towards the open fire in the sitting room off to the left. Christian, unable to keep up, limped terribly into the front entrance of his castle and had to stop and breath heavily through his nose while the pain subsided enough for him to continue the trek up to his rooms. He felt slightly guilty for his sudden arrival home, knowing his was pulling half of his staff out of bed to put the carriages away, tend to the horses, get the luggage inside and begin the cleaning and putting away of their contents, setting up beds, and drawing baths for the tired travelers as well as cleaning up all the muddy wet everyone was tracking in from outside. No one had expected the King and his party to arrive in time for Belle's birthday celebration but Christian had driven his servants to their breaking point to get home as he had promised he would. Now, they were all home with a day to spare before the actual birthday itself. There was a torrent of activity and Christian was standing amidst it all wondering if he was ever going to get a chance to sleep.  
Without warning Cogsworth appeared looking like he had scrambled out of bed only moments before and had not realized yet that his wig was missing. He stumbled towards Christian rubbing his bleary eyes and gazed up at his former charge with chagrin.

"Well, Christian! You might have sent an envoy ahead of you to inform us you were coming. It's quite rude to wake good people up in the middle of the night!"

Christian had to hold back a smile at his Major-Domo's sleep-deprived grumpiness. It amused him how comfortable Cogsworth was at scolding Christian like a child who didn't happen to be his ruler. He liked to believe it was the mark of a good father.

"I apologize, old friend, you do not have to stay up and oversee everything. I am sure Lumiere will not mind doing it."

Cogsworth practically snorted through his nose. "That rusted out knob of brass? You couldn't pull him out of that bed of his if you had fifteen horses attached!" Then quietly he turned his tired face away and muttered, thinking Christian couldn't hear him, "Stuffed shirt! Humph! I'll stuff him and use him to polish silverware!"

He then turned his head back up to Christian and glared. "And who are you calling old? I don't happen to be the one carrying the cane!"

Christian glanced down at the stick of wood he was leaning heavily on. He actually rather liked it, having had several expertly carved in Paris.

With a smirk Christian cocked his head to the side. "I may have to use a cane now, but at least I still have all my hair." And with that he patted Cogswroth's mostly bald head.

Cogsworth yelped with indignation and rubbed the top of his head furiously. "Where's my wig? Where did it go?"

Someone laughed from across the room. "Upstairs wiz the rest of your dignity!" It was Lumiere, looking tired, but not rumpled like Cogsworth. He laughed his normal infectious laugh and made his way over to the pair at the entrance of the castle.

Cogsworth glared impressively at his cohort. "Well, it's about time you finally got your lazy bones out of bed and did your job."

Again Lumiere laughed and rubbed Cogworth's head as he passed him to embrace Christian's wet form. They placed quick kisses on ether's cheeks and then stepped away from each other with smiles. "It iz so good to see you master. I trust your journey waz a success?"

Christian smiled and turned his head this way and that. "Oh, more or less. I trust that everything has been peaceful here?"

Lumiere imitated his master and smiled again. "Oh, more or less. Ze queen will be 'appy to see you. She did not actually believe you would be back 'ere for 'er birthday celebration."

Christian's eyes dropped just enough for Cogsworth and Lumiere to notice. "Ah yes, well, I suppose it's going to take her some time to trust the promises I make to her."

Both men were quiet for a moment, neither knowing what to say next. Christian sighed deeply and looked around the busy front room of his home that didn't feel like home.

Lumiere fingered the intricate design on Christian's cane. "Zis is nice, sire. And I see zat you are walking very comfortably since ze last time I saw you."

Christian nodded his head, not really in the mood for small talk. "Yes, I simply grew tired of hobbling around on those crutches." In truth it had been an excruciating experience. He had seen several village physicians and had spent countless hours limping around his stay rooms wherever he was at the time, then walking short distances outside when the weather was good, then, finally, on this own with the use of the cane on occasions. His leg hurt deeply and he would often have a good strong drink to try and numb the blasted thing. It grew easier, though the cold weather made it ache so deeply he wanted to scream. He had a depressing certainty that he now understood why the old man-Christian in his dream had told him he would find out soon enough why he walked with such a limp. All this ran through his head before Lumiere had a chance to answer him.

"Ah well, zat is good."

Again Christian nodded and turned towards the stairs to indicate that he was finished talking. Cogsworth scuttled ahead of him chattering about this happening and that event at the castle since the king had been gone. He went over minute details about the birthday celebration and even spoke about Christian's costume that had been tailored just in case he ended up attending. A fitting was scheduled for the next day to make sure the tailors had gotten the measurements correct. For perhaps, the hundredth time in his life, Christian felt deeply grateful for Cogsworth and almost grateful to his father for hiring the man. If it weren't for Cogsworth, Christian was afraid he would have to worry about all these insignificant details and he was certain parties at the castle would be dismal under his care.

At last they arrived at Christian's apartments. The corridors were quite and dark and the only sounds were of several servants bringing in buckets and buckets of heated water for the king's royal bath. Christian entered to the familiar smell of paper, ink, and loneliness. He hated this room with a passion. The water was filling up quickly and a blazing fire had been lit, just as he liked it. Without another word all began to move about the room in silence. Despite the fact that Christian was exhausted beyond measure he did find the movements he and his servants made to be comfortable and typical. It was as if they had all been together so long they knew each other's habits by heart and did not need to speak. Cogsworth began to whisper to this servant and that, going in and out, checking to make sure the tea was the temperature and flavor to induce sleep and not keep Christian awake. He oversaw others filling bed-warmers so that if Christian did elect to sleep in his bed that night (which Cogsworth highly doubted) it would be as warm as it could get without erupting into flames. Lumiere followed Christian into his changing rooms and selected a robe for him before exiting while Christian stripped out of his soaking clothes and into his robe so that he could settle into a warm bath and try to relax enough so that he might be able to convince his body to go to sleep.

All this went smoothly and after Christian had bathed and his leg had been massaged, hair brushed out, and bed turned down he dismissed his servants with a nod and a smile and the castle soon became suffocating with silence. Christian concentrated on not limping as he drank his tea in his night shirt and dressing robe. His hair was still wet and it gave him a chill as it dripped down his open collar. He once again looked around his rooms and felt empty. How long had it been since the night he sat in here doing menial paperwork? The night Sophia ran away and turned his world upside down. You would have thought that after such a great disturbance in his routine something would have been different afterward, but it wasn't. He was still alone and still unhappy and nothing had changed. He walked over to the bedpost on the left side of the bed and wrapped his hand around it for support. He gazed intently at the empty bed, turned down only on the right side. He imagined what Belle looked like at this very moment, sleeping in the room down the hall. Was she only sleeping on the left side of her bed the way he only slept on the right ? As if both were simply waiting for the other to finally slip under the covers on their designated sides and whisper a soft goodnight before drifting off into warm sleep. Perhaps she didn't miss him at all. She always did complain about him stealing the blankets and talking too much while he dreamt. This he rationalized because he was too tired to think about all the things that had been shared between the two and it was just easier to be pessimistic.

He jerked all the blankets off the bed and drug them across the room towards the fireplace. Tossing them down on the floor he returned to retrieve the pillows and sent them to land beside the over-warmed-up blankets. With impatience he doused the candles so the only light was from the fire. Doing his best to make a little bed for himself he curled up inside his mountain of blankets and settled down on the warm floor to rest out the night and most of the next day. The floor may not have been perfectly comfortable, but it far exceeded sleeping in his bed alone.

* * *

The next day was dismal and Christian refused to get out of bed for most of it. He attempted to eat some but was only able to manage two cups of tea and a biscuit. He wandered his room in his dressing robe and shifted papers and things around in an attempt to have a purpose in his meanderings. Cogsworth and Lumiere came to visit him and he talked for several hours about his trip, things that needed to be done, and finally about Belle. He allowed them to discuss her comings and goings and all the guests she had entertained since he had been gone. Apparently a swarm of his extended family had come parading through the castle after they had received the good news of Christian's health. Some were as horrible as he remembered them to be and caused her to go to bed with horrible megrims. And then others were not as Chrisitian had always said and were quite wonderful and a joy to have about the castle. Belle had gone riding with one of Christian's older cousins, a Duke whose family had been overlooked for decades, several times. Christian felt a pang of jealousy despite the man's advanced age. What right did he have to accompany the Queen without the King present? And besides, Christian inwardly sulked, riding was something he and Belle did alone when they wanted to get away.  
It also came to Christian's attention that Sophia had become so melancholy with the absence of Chip that Belle had sent her to stay with Christian's Aunt Maud. This caused the King great alarm when he heard of it as he still didn't trust anyone who carried blood ties with him. But Cogsworth and Lumiere assured Christian for several minutes that the woman was simply delightful and would care for Sophia while her mother spent time arranging the wedding.

Soon the conversation dwindled and Christian had to stand for quite a while as his dinner costume was pinned to fit him properly. He was irritable and annoyed with the whole endeavor and refused to be distracted by his advisers who were there for the tailor's moral support.

Christian looked down at the suit he was swathed in and groaned childishly. "Why does it have to be pink?"

And it was, sort of. The vest was a pale pink the color of summer roses. The rest of the suit was an iridescent color. It shimmered white and lovely with just a hint of pink threads running through it's interior. It fit Christian in the way all the new fashions did these days. The trousers ended at the knee and he would wear white stalkings underneath with shiny white dinner slippers to match his suit. The jacket was meant to fit tightly across his broad chest to show off his muscular shoulders and arms. It was so very foppish and in contrast with Christian's brooding personality that it was a wonder he had even tolerated it this long.

"It is the color Belle chose for her celebration this year. We had a second bloom of the pink roses in the garden and they were so exquisite she wanted to use them for the decorations." Cogsworth answered Christian with just a touch of mockery in this voice. His rather large master did look a trifle ridiculous in such a dazzling costume.

As Christian could not counter the wishes Belle had made for her own birthday celebration he changed the subject. "Speaking of roses, did you fine one for her gift?"

Lumiere nodded his head. "Oui. Ze most beautiful one we could find in ze garden."

Christian nodded with just a twinge of a smile. "It wasn't pink was it?"

Lumiere chuckled under his breath. "Non, sire. It was one of ze new breeds. White wiz red tips."

Looking over his shoulder he gave Lumiere a small grin of thanks and then turned his head back around. "Good. I will give it to her tomorrow." Then a tad quieter but not enough for them to miss it, "I hate pink!"

* * *

The next morning when Christian finally woke up, his leg was stiff and aching and he cursed profusely before his body-servant came in to tend to his irate master. It took an embarrassing amount of time to get Christian on his feet without his leg giving out from underneath him. He would rather curl up and die then stumble around in front of his servants and so he barked angry orders at them and then demanded that they leave his room while he spent an hour hobbling around trying to get his muscles to relax. It had been months since he had broken his leg and in his mind it shouldn't be taking this long to heal. He needed his leg now!

With a furious sigh he walked over to the window and threw open the drapes. He was greeted with the sight of snow everywhere. It had come down in a fury through the night and the entire countryside was covered in several inches of glittering powder white. He immediately started to worry about the straggling guests that would arrive today. Most were already here and had comfortably taken up every breathable inch of Christian's space and sanity. Still, there were a few and he hoped they would not have to travel too far in the cold. It wasn't safe.

He left the drapes open, despite the chill that came into his room. It was an astoundingly beautiful sight to see everything so white and clean-looking that he couldn't heart the idea of blocking it out. With resignation he donned a plain pair of trousers and shirt with jacket that he could wear until he changed into his dinner costume for Belle's birthday celebration. It was sloppy to simply throw on such simple clothing, especially ones that looked like they hadn't been pressed in weeks, but he really didn't intend to see anyone until nightfall. What was the harm in being comfortable for once?

He had been home for almost two days now and would have loved nothing better then to crawl back up to the grate of the fireplace and sleep through the next two. But his body refused to rest any longer and due to the fact that he had not left his room in those two days he was fidgety and restless. He was walking easily about the room now and had abandoned his cane for later use. As much time as he could spend not using it the better, he thought.

With a sigh of resignation he finally decided to take a walk through the castle. Everyone would be in a right mess about getting dinner and the ball prepared for the evening. Guests would be milling about, entertaining each other, and generally getting into everything Christian owned, which he found greatly annoying. Not to mention the moment he showed his face to anyone he would be swarmed like a gold coin thrown into a crowd of starving people. They would attack him with questions and compliments, fawning over him in their sickly sweet manner that always seemed to happen at social gatherings such as these. Of course the moment his back was turned they would start gossiping about him with every stupid criticism they could think of. Well, no thank you! He would have to just find a room where no one could bother him for a while. Somewhere that no one would think to find him.

It didn't take long for him to find his way to the chapel. Mass was over and though a priest milled around uncomfortably, Christian promised him that he was only planning to sit quietly for a while. This appeased the priest and soon Christian found himself calmingly and quietly alone. Sometime within the last several years Christian had stubbornly declared that he no longer believed in God and deemed it unnecessary to attend religious services. It was another thorn in Christian and Belle's relationship as she was devote and loved attending Mass. In truth Christian _did_ believe in God. He believed in His wrath. He believed that he was being eternally punished for all the sins of both himself and his entire family. Nothing else could explain his inexplicable bad fortune. His life always seemed to take a terrible turn for the worst whenever things became even the remotest bit happy and so it was only a matter of time before something bad happened again. Naturally it must be God punishing him and so he refused to set one foot in the Chapel.

And yet, here he was, wandering the Nave in search of some place to rest his tired bones. He walked to the front of the alter that held a rather ornate image of the Crucifixion, but turned his face away. He understood the need for such images in the faith of others but did not care for it in his own. He walked to the side alter and gazed contentedly at the Votive candles to his right. He noted that none were burning at the moment and he thought idly of lighting one. Except to do so would require a prayer of some sort and Christian just could not bring himself to address a God that may just as easily take his Belle away from him. Sooner or later it did not matter, if ever she were to be gone from him then it would be the end. This thought plagued him constantly. He was engrossed by it, and never allowed it to stray too far away from the back of his mind. In truth he was driving himself utterly mad.

He thought about all the time he had spent in this Chapel. Praying and begging God for so many things. What did it all amount to? What good has his life been for anyone, including himself?

With a weary sigh Christian sat upon the edge of the first pew to the right. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything. Something that could keep the melancholy out. It was really getting ridiculous, this depression he was living in. He rubbed his hands over his face roughly and ran his fingers through his loosely tangled hair. It was the second breath he took that alerted him to the strangeness in the room. The air had changed and he sniffed his nose several times to confirm what his senses were already telling him. He grimaced and then leaned back onto the wooden bench. With resignation, he sighed and gazed about the room searching only to find that no one was in sight. Closing his eyes for a moment he opened them and stared at the wall in front of him.

"I know you're here. I can smell you." He said loudly enough that it reverberated off the walls.

As if someone had lit several torches, a brightness came into the dim chapel and from behind a statue of the Blessed Virgin the Enchantress appeared like an apparition out of many of Christian's dreams. Her emerald green eyes trained on him and she stood still for several moments allowing him to take in her full image. She was impressed with his composure. This was the first time either of them had stood face to face since he was a twelve year old boy standing in the foyer of the castle while an angry storm raged outside. He sat remarkably calm on his bench and uttered not one word for several moments, his face impassive. The only notion he involuntarily gave her that he was even remotely nervous was his quick swallow and a few blinks as his eyes adjusted to the brightness she emitted.

When the moment had passed she bent her knees elegantly into a low bow and raised herself with a small smile on her face.

"Hello, Christian."

He didn't bother with her same courtesy and remained seated but did incline his head a few inches and murmured back, "Hello."

She took a cautious step in his direction. "I always forget about that nose of yours. You've become quite good with your residual abilities, though I am surprised you were able to recognize my scent at all."

Christian shook his head a little as if to clear it and then raised an eyebrow of discontentment. "You've been following me. I nearly fell off my horse the first time I realized it was you. I saw you in Toulon when you were dressed as a farm hand and then again in Paris at the fête des fous. You were dancing as a gypsy in the square."

Suddenly the Enchantress's face broke into a radiant smile. "Oh you saw that? How wonderful!" She took a few more steps towards Christian, almost as if she were worried that he may have a violent reaction to her. Christian put a fist on one knee and leaned forward.

"Oh, I'm sure. Interesting how I was the only one who noticed your strange appearance."

"Hmmm," she replied, giving him a knowing look. "You and I have a special bond. My disguises won't work with you anymore."

Christian's features become rigidly hard as he sat up strait on his bench. "Bond? The only bond I could conceivably share with you is the one of indeterminate hatred I have for your general existence!"

The smile left the Enchantress's face but not the glitter in her eye.

"You don't hate me." She replied simply.

Christian took a moment to look incredulous before thumping his fist down on the wood of the bench. "The hell I don't! You come into my life and wreak havoc upon everything I've ever known and then leave me for dead when I was twelve years old! I hate you with every breath I take! Now you waltz in here for God only knows what purpose. To intimidate me I suppose, and tell me how I do and do not feel about you? Incredible!"

His sudden flare of anger was mounting and he knew he needed to get a handle on it or there would be devastating consequences. She was the Enchantress after all.  
With a shake of her head she crossed the rest of the distance between them and lightly sat down next to him, though there was considerable space between their bodies.

"Now, now. Lets not start spitting toads, shall we?"

Christian set his face forward and refused to look at her further. Childish, perhaps, but effective in conveying his intentions.

"What are you really angry at Christian? You couldn't have come in here after all these years to rage and fury over me?"

Christian grunted in disgust. "Well, then, I want to hate you."

She tisked once and then looked at him strait on. "That's unfortunate."

For a moment Christian thought seriously about being angry at her using his standard response to Sophia's declaration of her hatred towards him, but then decided against it. Let the Enchantress say whatever she wanted. He was more interested in her sudden presence then in her playful banter.

"Why are you here?" He asked solemnly, not betraying any hint of anxiety over the question.

She cocked her head to the side as if considering him. "I've come to congratulate you on you're daughter's upcoming nuptials."

Christian snorted rudely. "Even if that were true, which I highly doubt, I am certain you are perfectly aware that Sophia is not here at all and wont be back for a several weeks. So, you'll have to return later for your felicitations."

The Enchantress smiled at him and glanced away for a moment. "I've come because I thought perhaps you were ready to finally speak with me without attempting to rip me to shreds."

For a moment Christian was stunned by her honesty and they gazed at each other for several moments. A corner of his mouth twitched into an attempted smile but pride downed it and he looked at his hands solemnly.

"Well, shreds you are not, but I cannot imagine us having any kind of formal conversation."

She paused a moment before looking at him again. "We can start with an apologetic one. I hope you know I never meant for that to happen to you."

"Oh, no doubt." He replied mockingly but his posture was softening in her presence and it relaxed her considerably. He grimaced, "I am to assume this...Wilhelm, was it? This wizard, was not a friend of yours?"

She thought about this for a moment and then shook her head. "Not a friend of mine, but you need not worry, I have taken care of the situation."

"Well then, I feel sorry for that unfortunate wretch." He replied

"I didn't kill him if that is what you're worried about."

Christian gazed into the Enchantress's green eyes, gravely. "Madam, when it comes to you, there are worse things."

She was visibly stung but she lifted her chin up proudly and gazed right back. "Please know that I am sorry."

For a moment nothing was said and then Christian nodded quickly as if the subject made him uncomfortable. Finally he seemed to gather himself up and purse his lips thoughtfully. "I think it's time you tell me who you are."

It was such a simple statement, made with such matter-of-fact tone that it didn't sound like an order, but that's exactly what it was. She understood that it was his terms of surrender if she wanted him to trust her at all. She slowly nodded her head. "I do believe you are right."

She took a deep breath, as if to prepare herself for a very long speech. "My name is Aislin."

"Aislin" Christian repeated, tasting the name out on his mouth. He nodded, to indicate that she could continue. Nothing too scary yet.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning, but I don't really know where that would be. My life has become so twisted up and unrecognizable that I don't know what to leave in and what to leave out."

Christian shifted his weight on the bench into a more comfortable position. "You are some sort of magical being, correct?"

She turned her head this way and that and rose to her feet again and faced him as a priest would his congregation. "Yes, but not the way you understand it. Magic as you've come to believe isn't really what magic is at all. It is a living breathing entity with a mind and a personality of it's own. Since it's creation, whenever that actually was I know not, it has been a force in this world to reckon with. For years it watched and observed people and then pushed them into directions they wouldn't normally go. Every person is born with some ability of some sort. Some can work with mettle and wood, others are musically gifted, and some...some have an inborn ability of manipulating magic. It always varies from the housewife who uses a potion to give her soup flavor, to people powerful enough to turn the world upside down."

Aislin paused and placed a hand on the statue of the crucified Christ. She looked as if she were trying to draw comfort from the image.

"I was born, a long time ago, in a small village in what is now Sweden. My father was a village priest and an overzealous one at that. When I was very young I discovered that I could do things others could not. I could make things grow and twist and manipulate people and things just by thinking about it. This frightened my parents and in response they had me burned at the stake."

She made the statement with absolutely no emotion and Christian felt jarred by it. "How old were you?"

"Five" she responded with that same detachment.

Christian grimaced again, "That is...terrible. You survived it though, I surmise."

She nodded "I was rescued by a man named Bartholomew. Bartholomew is what we magical beings call a Guardian. They are...a group of people with extraordinary magical gifts who have...I suppose you could say we gave up our mortality. Very few people are born with the kind ability that we have and because of it we can become immortal. Give up our humanity for a higher existence. Bartholomew made me his apprentice and showed me many wonderful things, gave me power I didn't know existed."

"So you were human then? You were once a person?"

Aislin nodded with a sad little smile on her face. "For a little while."

He thought about this for a moment, as if considering her less then human appearance, then nodded for her to continue.

"In any case, I became a Guardian as well. It was not a terrible existence and I am very grateful to Bartholomew for what he did for me but I cannot say I was ever truly happy. As a Guardian we do not deal with humans often. We have presumptively taken it upon ourselves to control magic and many of those who posses the ability to manipulate magic. When a particular sect of wizards gets out of line or some small child shows a special ability we handle it and then go on to do our work elsewhere, whatever that may be. Everyone had a realm according to their special abilities and we dedicate ourselves to it."

Aislin paused, considering what she should say next. Christian felt at a bit of a loss in this situation. He had never expected, when he woke up that morning, to be sitting inside his chapel listening to his notorious Enchantress tell her life story. If he had been told that is what he would be doing he wouldn't have believed it, but then, here he was.

As if reading his mind she answered his musings. "I know this all sounds strange to you, and you are wondering why I am telling you at all. I do have a purpose for coming here and I hope you will be patient with me. It sounds strange to me too."

Christian again nodded without revealing anything and she continued.

"As I said, I was not happy. Several centuries past and I watched the world change and babies grow into old men and their children's children's children grow old and die. I held onto my humanity with all my strength. I wanted what everyone else had. You see, being a Guardian is a very lonely existence, being an immortal is too. But there is a special place of loneliness for Guardians as we only live for the magic and nothing more. One day I was escaping my duties for a moment and I disguised myself as a peasant woman who was peddling flowers down by the sea. I wasn't to interact with any mortals as it is forbidden of me but I simply wanted to watch the waves crash on the shore and wonder what it would actually feel like to have spray hit my face and grainy sand cover my toes. I didn't mean to notice anyone or have anyone notice me. Then someone did."

Aislin stopped her speaking and considered discontinuing her narrative as she had now entered ground that was sacred to her. But when Christian raised his head curiously, wondering why she had paused and she knew she had to continue. She felt it deep down that she owed something to him.

"He had something of a small magical ability. Spells for good weather and strong knots to tie the ropes of his ship. This was why he was able to notice me at all and he came over to buy my flowers, though he really had no idea who or what I was. Twenty-five years old and already the owner of two lucrative merchant ships he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. One smile from him and I made a choice and thought I would never look back. His name was Jonathon. I abandoned the council of Guardians and-"

"How?" Christian interrupted for the first time. "How did you just go from this," he made a gesture towards Aislin's appearance. "To pretending to being mortal?"

"I… I didn't always look like this Christian. Also, and I suppose I should have said this before, along with my other abilities I am the only Guardian that has the ability to strip magic from a person, including my own. I... I guess you could say I removed myself from it."

She paused, thinking if she had left any other important details out, then continued. "The council was furious with me but I was in love and for the first time in centuries I felt real. I felt tears on my cheeks and apples in my mouth and Jonathon's kisses on my lips and I pretended to forget all of what I was. We had children and grew older and held parties in our manor. It was the happiest time of my life."

"But... I didn't deserve to be that happy and I think I knew it then. This is why I believe that I deserved to have it taken away."

Christian cocked his head to the side. Not that he didn't agree with her but he never would have figured her to hold traits of self-loathing.

"Many years after I quit the council and gave up immortality, a man named Delano came to visit me. Delano is a Guardian and a very good friend of mine. One who was hurt the most by my abandonment. He has a particular gift that I don't believe suits him at all but whose to say fate cared much when he chose him for it. Delano has the ability to snuff out a life the way you would a candle. He holds life and death in the palm of his hands and at the orders of the council has been the means of ending more then one magical rebellion by lesser magical beings then ourselves. I have never loved and hated someone as equally as I do Delano.

"You see, before I left, the council had been watching a family. This family was particularly powerful both as mortal's go and as immortal's go. For over two hundred years they had ruled and skirted under our noses. Not quite enough of a nuisance for us to intervene but just enough for them to have been assigned to me to keep tabs on. I had not thought about them in years as their power was a good distance away from my small realm of mortal life. But Delano, being my friend and one of the very few beings who knew where I was, thought to inform me of council decisions this one time. I almost wish he hadn't."

"I have a very suspicious feeling this is where I come into the story." Christian looked at her plainly as if they were discussing the weather but deep down his stomach was twisting uncomfortably. The last thing he needed was to have his life turned upside down again. To discover that his barley balanced reality was really all a lie to begin with.

"I wish I could put your suspicions to rest but you know just as well that everything that happened to you was not a matter of chance."

Christian sighed deeply. "I was afraid you were going to say that. This family you speak of, it is mine isn't it? The Rosiennes?"

She nodded shortly.

"It makes sense now that you say it." He muttered, rubbing his hands together as if they were dirty and he needed to wash them. "There always were a fare few strange stories surrounding my ancestors. I had hoped they were nothing more then that."

"Then I hope you will understand a little better why I did what I did."

"I think there is little chance I shall ever truly understand, but please, continue."

"Delano came to inform me that the council had made a very firm decision to... wipe out this family."

Christian gazed at her in alarm. "What do you mean 'wipe them out'?"

"I told you what Delano can do."

"And they just decide who gets to live and who gets to die? Who gave any of you the right to decide that?"

"Now you may understand one of the greater reasons why I left. Bartholomew believed that the Rosienne family was becoming too powerful to control. A proud and bloodthirsty bunch, their ability to use magic was growing and...and I was blamed."

"Why?"

"It was my duty to keep watch over them. I was such a key player in the Guardian's power struggle that to have lost me was actually quite devastating. Delano took me to see them as I had no abilities to speak of. I was older then and not very willing to give up my comfortable life and my wonderful husband to save a family of murderers and debauchees. We were disguised as courtiers and we visited much of your family, watching and waiting. Then I observed someone who...made me change my mind. It was Mandolin."

Christian lifted his head in surprise. "My mother?"

The Enchantress nodded. "She was still a young princess at the time, being married to your uncle and I realized that someone like her did not deserve to die. Not because of me anyways. I did not know what would happen or the consequences of my actions but to see her with her sweet ways reminded me of my own daughters and I wanted to help her, for I could see how sad her life had been."

Christian grunted. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but her life was never a very good one. All the way up to the day she died."

"And that saddens me, Christian. You don't even realize the joy you brought her."

"My mother was brutally murdered and you did nothing! I don't think that leaves much room for any kind of joy."

"I couldn't save your mother from her life, Christian, that wasn't part of the deal."

"What deal?"

"The deal I made to come back."

"I don't... I don't understand."

Aislin sighed deeply and then mustered the strength to continue knowing that he was never going to be happy with anything she had to tell him. "There was a prophesy. I had not heard of it until I met the man who had foreseen it. I think you know him as Dominique Fortesque."

Christian blinked once or twice. "Fortesque? The famous magician I sent Chip to study with? He's a... Guardian?"

"No, not a Guardian but he does have enough magical ability to sustain immortality, though why he wanted to do that I'll never know. The fact that you two have crossed paths was purely on his curiosity of you and a desire to poke his nose where it doesn't belong."

He looked at her again suspiciously. "How many more of your kind have been skulking around in my life?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want to know?"

Christian thought about this for a moment and then shook his head firmly. "No, I don't believe I do. Ignorance is bliss in this case."

"Well said." She answered and then continued. "Fortesque's real mastery is that he can, on occasion, see visions of the future. He foretold of a man coming out of your family lineage that would have amazing powers and abilities. One's to even rival those of the council if he were allowed to cultivate them. He referred to the man as 'The Golden

King' "

Christian snorted and shifted in his seat. "Oh, not that nonsense again! Who is this 'Golden King' everyone keeps talking about?"

Aislin alighted next to Christian, a sympathetic look on her alien features. "I believe he was referring to your hair. When the sunlight hits your head just right, it does have a beautiful color."

Christian blanched at her words. "You cannot possibly think that I am some mythical king from a morbid child's story!"

She shook her head a little. "Well, no. Not all the silly things about sleeping princesses and what not, but the prophesy was very specific about you personally."

"But I don't have any magical abilities. I am just a man."

"Perhaps," She shifted her head to the left in a nonchalant manner he didn't like. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, it has nothing to do with why I came here. I wasn't sure about the prophesy, but I used it to my advantage. I knew that if the council believed that I would be one of the few people who could manage such a task as the Rosiennes and because the members were... losing much of their ability, they believed that I could bring in someone who could help. I hope you know that I never had any intention of doing so but I needed to make sure that I did what I could for your family.

"I know it was the hardest decision I have ever made. I was allowed my one request to say good-bye to my husband. Our children were all married and happily living away from us but I still...I should not have gone back to see him. Jonathon knew something was wrong the moment I stepped through the door and would not take my simple words of love for an answer. I told him everything, of who I was, what I was, and where I was going."

For a moment Aislin could not speak as the painful memories rushed back into her. She had not meant to be this honest but it seemed like it was the most important thing she was telling him, though she did not know why. "He wept and told me that he could not live without me, that he would die if I left him there alone." Her voice began to shake and Christian watched her with uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to do. "Delano offered to end his suffering for he knew that I had no choice in leaving Jonathon. I came up with the only plan I could think of to ensure that I would not lose the man I loved forever. I cursed him." A sob escaped her throat and for several moments she could not speak. "I put him under a spell to sleep and have hidden him away so that no one can find him until I have finished my task."

Again she didn't speak for so long that finally he moved to prompt her to continue, his attention fully on her.

"So...what did you do?"

"I cursed myself as well."

"You cursed...yourself?"

"It was the only way I could create an escape for myself from the council once more, now that I was bound to it so much more tightly then I had been before."

"What kind of curse was it?" He asked rubbing his face curiously, as this possibility had never once occurred to him.

"They call it the Fairy-Godmother curse. It's almost never used as most immortals have not gotten themselves into predicaments such as I. My powers are not all-encompassing. In fact they are rather useless to my own personal benefit and so I used this curse because it was the only way of getting me out of the mess I had found myself in. The cursed must perform an insurmountable task in return for one wish of an equal improbability. One I could not perform myself without the council's aid, which they would never grant."

"What was the task?"

"I must save a hundred souls, chosen for me by the curse itself. The names would appear in a book created by the magic of the spell and I must come up with a solution for the poor wretches."

Christian almost chuckled. "And I assume I am the wretch you are speaking of, in such a nonchalant manner?"

For a moment she lowered her lovely head and her butter-yellow hair fell into her face, obscuring her already strange features.

"For a long time I worked to keep your family away from the council's clutches. Many were involved in the darkest of magic and I am not all-powerful, I couldn't protect them from themselves. And...at the time I was not willing to reach any further then I already had into magic. You see the thing about being an immortal is… the more you use the magic, the more it uses you. Until you are unrecognizable to what you were before and often you forget that you even were once a human with hopes and dreams and a mortal life that would have one day ended. And once changed, you cannot go back."

Christian studied her for several moments. The pointed ears, the pupil-less eyes, the way her hair seemed to drift softly around her head without being prompted to by wind.

"Does that explain all this?" He indicated her face with his hand, and almost brushed her skin but refrained from doing so. He was just starting to become comfortable in her presence, but only because she was maintaining a breathable distance and he wasn't ready for her to touch him, or him to touch her.

She nodded somberly and looked at him deeply "I ran out of options."

He grappled with himself for a moment and then looked at her seriously. "Aislin," Her name sounded unfamiliar and informal but it felt rude to caustically refer to her as 'Enchantress'.

"Was magic responsible for my family's death?"

She shook her head immediately. "No, Christian. Sometimes things just happen. But it still doesn't make it your fault."

Anger flared quickly and his eyes flashed dangerously in her direction. "How would you know that?"

"I know it haunts you and I wish there was some way I could change that."

He quickly stood up for the first time and stared at her wondering why exactly he was getting so very angry at this particular moment.

"You seem to know quite a bit about how I'm suppose to be feeling. What I should be doing, how I'm supposed to live my life! Whatever gave you the right?"

She seemed to wither under his stare, which surprised him. This was the Enchantress! In all his dreams and nightmares she had seem omniscient, indestructible, dangerous and omnipotent. Never in his wildest thoughts had he ever surmised her to have feelings.

"I had to do something!" She finally said, her voice wavering for a moment and then correcting itself.

"Why!"

"Because you were in pain! You were completely unreachable and I couldn't just stand there and let you suffer!"

"So you made me suffer more! What kind of logic is that? I suffered for ten years and you left me more alone then I had ever been!"

"I'm not apologizing for my actions, Christian."

"Then what do you want from me?" And something in the way he seemed to shrink a little broke Aislin's heart. He was giving up. Again.

"I just want you to be happy." It came out as a whisper and a long pause followed this declaration as Christian shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"Was I….a name in your book?"

She waited a moment before answering. "I was surprised to see you there. I had hoped you would be spared but…. I should have known better. You had lost everyone. I tried everything I knew how to do but it was like the citadel you'd built around yourself was impenetrable. I did the only thing I could do. I cast the spell and left you alone."

"Did you know it would be broken?"

"I knew that the spell would give you the best opportunity, but then it was up to you. I know you cannot believe it, but worse things could have happened to you then me."

"I believe it." He said, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

He hesitated a moment and then finally sat but down next to her, perhaps a little closer then before. He just couldn't seem to make sense of his whole situation. Too much vulnerability between the two of them. He was sure he preferred it the way things were before. Her remaining a mystery and him continuing to hate her.

He filled his lungs with air and waited several moments before releasing it, trying so desperately to allow the words that wanted to be said to come out right.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand. This whole world you belong to is so far beyond me I don't ever want to. But I….I don't know if I grieve over what you did anymore. It led me to her, and I cannot bring myself to regret that. That doesn't mean I forgive you, but you are right. I don't think I hate you all that much anymore."

She nodded as if this was more then she had expected from him.

"I just want to know why it had to be me."

She looked away thinking that all of this might have been a mistake. Telling him all this truth when he might not ever get the answers he'd been looking for, perhaps because they just weren't there.

"Even if the book hadn't chosen you, I still would have done something. I couldn't save your father or most of the rest of your family but I could do something about you. I was worried and frustrated and believe it or not I thought long and hard about the consequences of what I was willing to do to you. I did not come by the decision lightly. You and your family were my responsibility, book or no book."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"I chose you…. Because….. because the world needs good men like you, Christian. Men that are brave and strong."

"That doesn't make any sense. If the spell made me look as badly on the outside as I supposedly was on the inside, then how could you have believed that I was some good person who deserved a second chance?"

"I could have had you killed instead. And besides, I said good, brave, and strong. Not perfect."

Christian didn't speak, only glared at the way she skirted around everything he asked her.

"If I had thought you were beyond hope…. I wouldn't have bothered. But…. I saw in you something good. Anyone who could be as devastated as you were about the loss of your family had to have a heart in there somewhere. And I knew, I knew, that if you could only have enough time to work things out, that you would do good things with your life."

It was a moment before Christian spoke again and when he did his voice was muffled, as if he was trying to hide his persistent emotion. "I haven't done anything good."

"I think Belle would take offense to that."

"Belle….Belle could have died because of me! She…" But he couldn't bring himself to talk about it. He couldn't utter it, for fear it would come true.

Aislin closed her eyes for a moment, "Trying to take responsibility for something you had no control over doesn't change that sometimes things just happen."

"I…..I…. I don't know how to be her husband, anymore, and still keep her from getting hurt."

"Christian, you cannot hide her away from everything. You know that. She could die tonight from falling down the stairs, gaining a chill from an open window as she reads her books. She could fall off her horse and you would never get the chance to say goodbye. Does this mean you are going to take these things away from her, just to keep her safe?"

It was a rhetorical question but he answered it for his own understanding. "No."

"Then why waste all the time you have left running away from it? You may have lost your family, but the love you have for her… It doesn't end when your body does. You know that too."

Christian let out a pathetic moan and tangled his fingers through his hair. Lowering his head he stared at the marbled floor of the chapel and wished he'd never set foot in here.

Without looking at her he spoke softly to his shoes. "Does it really matter that much to you? How I feel?"

" 'Tian," she murmured softly and he raised his head at the familiar nickname, not entirely ruffled that she had invoked it. "I left behind the only happiness I have ever known so that I could try to make your life better. I have failed indefinitely." She sat strangely still and looked about herself for a moment. "You are a good man and you deserve to be happy. Please…" Suddenly her voice broke and she folded her hands in her lap, as if she wasn't accustomed to anyone seeing her cry. "Please, Try to be happy. Please, stay saved. I have to get back to him! I cannot get there without your help!"

The last words came out in a gasp and she began to weep, placing her hands over her elfin face. Christian, as uncomfortable as he may be, was not the kind of man to allow a woman to cry without attempting to give her some comfort. And for the first time in his life he realized, or even entertained the idea, that this person that he had hated and been haunted by was quite literally just a woman in love. It didn't matter who she was to him, at that moment she needed to be comforted the same way Belle or Sophia would.

He quickly placed an arm around her bone thin shoulders and worried about breaking her in half if he wasn't gentle. "It's alright." He murmured quietly, not really knowing if it was the right thing to say.

Without hesitation she accepted his comfort and tucked herself underneath his arm. Her strange hair floated along his skin and he suppressed a shudder at the otherworldly feeling it left on him. He wondered what she would have looked like as a mortal woman. He wondered if she had been beautiful in a way he could understand and not the beautiful that made him so uneasy.

Taking a deep breath he continued. "I sometimes forget how everyone lives must be much harder then my own, simply because it is what is hardest for them to bear. I would not have had the strength to do what you did to your Jonathon."

She pulled her face away for a moment but did not entirely leave his embrace. "Every time I have a new charge to aid, I have to use a little more magic. By the time I earn my wish and revert what I have done he won't be able to even recognize me. I hope…. I hope he still loves me."

It was pitiful and Christian deeply wished she had not chosen him to reveal this side of herself to. It was so human and raw and the story she had told him was so deeply fantastical he didn't know what to do with it. It was another heavy weight he had no desire to bear. But because he cared, against his will he cared, and wished to comfort.

"He will. Anyone willing to be enchanted so that they don't have to live without the one they love wouldn't be able to stop loving that person if they tried. I would do it for Belle."

"And she would do it for you."

Christian rubbed his hands together and pressed his lips into a thin line on his face.

"I just need to know….. If I go back and be the man….be what she needs me to be…. I need to know that she'll be alright. Would you tell me that things would be alright?"

"I cannot and would not. You write the tale, Christian. But I'll be waiting at the end of 'Happily Ever After' to see how it all turned out. You want all the answers, but you have to accept that you will never have them. So you might as well spend the time you can loving life and loving her. Do it because you can."

Christian waited for a moment and seemed to accept this answer. He looked deeply at her face. It was exactly the same face he remembered as a twelve year old boy, the first time he had laid eyes on her. He remembered that he had thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Fairy-like and frightening and otherworldly. Then he met Belle and there wasn't a beauty in the world that could compare to her. Still, Aislin held the face of the person that had taught him the idea that he could still be afraid and, if anything, that taught him that he could still feel at all. In many ways he owed this woman something.

"Thank you." He whispered softly. "Thank you for telling me the truth, even if I may not ever really understand. Thank you for trying."

She smiled, not having expected any such gratitude from him, whether he meant it or not.

"Your welcome. I do look forward to telling my Jonathan about you and your Belle."

He smiled genuinely at her and with the embodiment of gentlemanly grace took her feathery thin hand in his and raised her fingers to his lips so that they remained pressed to his mouth for several moments. Then laying her hand pleasantly back on her lap he nodded his head that they had both reached the end of their conversation.

She came to her feet in one fluid motion and was making her way towards the wall behind the alter. Christian assumed she had come that way through some other means besides a door and quickly stopped her retreating back with one last question.

"That story, it isn't true is it?" he called and she turned around quickly, looking at him with that same enigmatic smile she had come into the room with.

"What story?"

"The one of 'The Golden King'? It is just a fairy story and has nothing to do with me, correct?"

"For one who has lived through his own fairy story, I don't think you should be entertaining the idea of courting another, hmm?"

"No, one is most definitely enough for me, thank you. But I would like your assurance that no more of your Guardian friends come after me in hopes of finding the living fable. I assume that is what Wilhelm wanted?"

"Ah, but you are shrewd aren't you?" She smiled at him as if she admired it, though she had hoped that he wouldn't have put the two together. "I can assure you that as long as you wish it, you are nothing more then Christian, husband to Belle and King of France."

"That is all I wish, for certain. But tell me, when this 'Happily ever after' finally comes, what will they call this fairy story of mine?"

She made a girlish gesture of biting her lip and then looked at him. "They shall call it 'The Beast…..and His Beauty'."

"I think I like 'Beauty and the Beast' better."

"Very well."

And just as the words had escaped her mouth the doors to the chapel burst open with a bang and startled Christian out of his moment with the Enchantress. But Aislin watched him for just a second before vanishing away as she had all those years ago, never to be seen or heard of again. She knew he was safe and would someday be happy once more and, frankly, that was all she cared about. Whatever powers and magical abilities he might have possessed were safely locked away in the roses he loved so much and would wither away and die when he did. If he showed no inclination to use them, which from the way he talked she doubted he did, then she would make sure that no one else would. Let his life be simple, she thought. But one thing was for certain. After all her years of wondering and watching and hoping, she had had a chance to know him. And to her, he had been worth it.

Christian turned quickly to see who the proprietor of the noise had been only to find Lumiere dashing inside the chapel, spotting his king and rushing towards him as if the castle were on fire. Cogsworth puffed in behind him and gave a wizened squeak of relief after a long and arduous search.

"Your Highness, we have been searching everywhere for you!"

"Oui," Lumiere breathed "What in ze world are you doing in 'ere? Do you no longer wish to attend ze celebration?"

Christian turned around himself, wondering why they had not noticed the Enchantress, only to find her gone with no trace that she had ever been there at all. But he did notice in the corner a small flame burning the wick of a Votive candle. He looked thoughtful, knowing exactly for whom her prayers were uttered.

Turning back around he looked at his anxious advisers and nodded his head. "Of course I'm still coming. Cannot a king commune with his God in peace for a while?"

Neither commented that their king had proclaimed multiple times his complete nonexistent belief in God, let alone communed with Him in the last six years. They simple each took an arm and frog-marched Christian out of the chapel, muttering about dinner costumes and hair styles that would need to be done before the feast started in two hours.


	42. Celebration

**Authors Note:** _As always, my pattern is to take forever to get another chapter out. BUT I do want to express my deepest love and appreciation for those who still review and read my story. You are my heroes. If I did not write back, know that I am still very thankful to you and hope that you will continue to read the last few chapters I will post._

_This chapter is a bridge as it will lead to the finale. I think it's simple and sweet enough and after this long journey we've been on, I think it fits pretty dang well._

_Speaking of journey's I was leafing through my notes to find outlines I wrote for this chapter and for this particular one I wrote the outline on a program I attended a LONG time ago. I almost cried at how long it's taken me to write this. I never wanted it to take this long but I just hated the idea of giving up on it. I hope you don't mind. I have a feeling I won't write another fan-fiction after this for a very long time. But for now, please enjoy and now that what I enjoy most is your reviews. Let me know how you feel. I love it!_

_P.S. I suck at editing and since this is almost over, I have to say that I just don't give a &%*%& anymore. Sorry for the spelling and grammar issues._

I had a few songs that have really inspired me for this chapter as well as the next few and I wish I could list them all but the one that I think really fits is "Oceanwide by The Afters. I discovered it when I downloaded it by mistake and I love it. Go listen to it, it's great!

**I know we've made mistakes**  
**I see through all the tears**

**but that's what got us here.**

**If love is an ocean wide**  
**We'll swim in the tears we cry**  
**They'll see us through to the other side**  
**We're gonna make it**  
**When love is a raging sea**  
**You can hold on to me**  
**We'll find a way tonight**  
**Love is an ocean wide**

**I'll stay right here**  
**It's where I'll always belong**  
**Tied with your arms**  
**Days like this, I wish the sun wouldn't set**  
**I don't want to forget**  
**What made us feel this way**  
**You see through all my fears**  
**And that's what got us here**

**Chapter Forty-Two: The Celebration**

* * *

Christian stood I the middle of his stay-rooms and looked about himself. The clock on the mantle of the fireplace chimed to inform him it was half past the hour and only thirty minutes until he was to be down in the front hall.

Standing very still he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. The room was a tad chilly and he would have to remind his servants to light a roaring fire when he returned from the ball. He had some work he needed to do at his desk that night before he went to sleep.

He tried to picture the room the way it used to be. Covers ruffled from two people sleeping inside his bed. Dressers and cabinets open, clothes strewn around the room. The horribly obvious way Belle laid her nightgown over a chair next to her side of the bed. Roses in every vase that could be found so that the room always had a thick floral perfume.

Christian smiled at the thought and then went to a small table that held rose and mint water in a large bottle. He gargled a large amount of the stuff and then spit it into the basin next to it. Then he approached the full length mirror on the wall and took a final look at himself before he left the room for the evening. It was ridiculous how primped he was. His nails were buffered and shining, face clean shaven. His hair and been brushed to a glowing hue and part of it was pulled and pinned to the back of his head. It was a feminine style that was slowly being adopted by men at court and with all the pins and powder and wig attachments they had shoved into his scalp he was sure he would rather be entirely bald then look this decorated. He surely hoped Belle would be covered in jewels or something of that nature to take the attention from the way Christian glimmered in his iridescent and pink dinner costume. All complete with a rose attached to his jacket pocket.

With one last glance around the room he straitened his cravat and closed the door soundly behind him until his return that evening.

He had purposefully left his cane leaning up against his desk that evening. For the first time in months his leg didn't hurt. He couldn't have described it if he had been asked but something felt different. Nothing substantial, just something that was affecting how he was seeing the world for that evening. He still hated his dinner costume, still felt lonely, still wondered what he should do, where he should go next with his life. But, for the first time in years, he felt as if perhaps things might just turn out for the best. He felt lifted, as if his heart which had permanently taken up residence inside his boots was finally coming back to its rightful place in his chest.

He could hear the noises of guests below him talking and laughing loudly, everyone preparing to enter the grand ballroom to dance and mingle. The women filling out dance cards before the feast was served and the festivities began officially.

He walked down the corridor slowly and stopped several times to observe paintings that had been hung at requests of hundreds of his family members before him. Many were beautiful, most were outdated. He had a sudden thought that he would very much like to start painting again. He used to love it when he was young and had dappled it in on and off in his early adulthood. He would often wake early in the morning while Belle slept and sketch were perfect face and sometimes her draped figure in its peacefulness. He rarely let her see them, afraid she would be offended by an invasion of her privacy, but now he wondered if she would sit still enough for him to paint her. Fully clothed, of course, but something beautiful he could hang upon the mantel of the library. Perhaps he would invite more artists to come and stay at Rose Castle. This place used to be the center of social grace in his grandfather's time, before things became permanently rooted in Paris. Perhaps he could bring some of it back in this direction. Or perhaps he should consider taking his family to where society currently resided. He concluded it was something to ponder about if things went well tonight.

And just as he was beginning to think he had missed them, two young women in uniform slipped out of Belle's stay rooms where Christian had been lurking.

They were chatting animatedly between the two and Christian's keen ears picked up that they were contemplating what they would wear if they were ever invited to a grand ball here. Fancies of romantic young girls, he concluded.

Christian stepped out of the shadows in his radiant costume and called out to them. "You two, could you come here for a moment."

They both whirled around in surprised to find their master standing just a few feet away. Their young faces registered worry that they had been caught conspiring to steal their mistress's fancy dresses and sneak into the celebration.

"Your Grace." They both murmured as they sunk into low curtsies in front of him and kept their mannerisms demur. He held in a conspiratorial smirk, reminiscent of his younger years when he found servant humility a tad humorous.

"You are Belle's maids?" He asked simply, noticing that they both were rather small and young looking. It seemed to him that his servants were just getting younger and younger the more he filtered them through.

Both nodded vigorously at the floor, not looking him in the eyes, which was becoming of a servant. "Aye," answered the blond one, "We are Her Majesties evening maids, to wait on the Queen and her ladies."

Christian nodded and gestured towards the room they had just exited. "I need you to do something for me before Belle retires this evening. If you could move some of her wardrobe into my stay rooms, Orland will let you in."

Both looked up at him at the same time, forgetting decorum. "Your Highness?" squeaked the brunette.

"Just some dresses and things, some of her finery. If you will."

Both maids looked at each other in confusion and then curtsied again quickly before answering an affirmative, "Yes, sire." Christian stepped between the two of them to resume his journey down to the Great Hall but mentally cocked his ear back to listen to the maid's reaction.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" That was the blond one.

"I haven't the slightest idea. Do you suppose he intends to wear them?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Belle is far too small. He wouldn't get his head past the bodice."

By this time Christian was positively snorting with laughter and far enough away that he couldn't hear the rest of the conversation.

Tucked safely inside the crook of his arm was a small package and he wanted to get downstairs in enough time to give it to it's recipient before the grand doors were opened. A startling amount of guests that had been invited to the celebration and he wanted a moment before they all came nosing in like bees to honey.

He made his way quickly to the staircase and was suddenly hit with a bout of deja vu. For the many times he had descended this staircase in the same routine as always he was reminded of a day, not too long ago, when he came down these staircases. He remembered seeing his beautiful Belle chatting below him with her ladies, dressed in a green gown that matched his own dinner costume. How interesting to find himself anticipating every step towards her. He wanted to break into a run to get there faster. To watch her from the balcony before she noticed he had already arrived.

And suddenly, before he had even realized it, he was at the top of the staircase. Looking down on the people below. No one noticed his appearance as they were all too busy surrounding the birthday recipient.

Christian's knees became week at his first sight of Belle in months. A shining diamond. Her dress was a matching pink shimmer color and her skirts billowed out around her reminding him of a pink rose in full bloom. Every movement she made caused the silver and gold threads to glitter and glow in the thousands of candles dancing around the room. Her hair was piled high upon her head and winked at him from the diamond pins that glittered through the smooth chocolate locks. Opals shone from her ears and throat and he watched for just a moment as people flitted around her like butterflies to blossoms.

There was something so stunning and so beautiful that radiated from ever inch of her. It was the way she bowed her head, humbly accepting the compliments of the people around her. She laughed kindly at it echoed up to where Christian stood, stone still, and listened to it's musical quality, wishing it had been him to make her laugh. He watched as she murmured something into a noblewoman's ear and then bent over as far as her heavy and constricting garments would allow to kiss the cheeks of a young girl standing next to the woman. The girl blushed and curtsied pleasantly and when Belle's back was turned bent her head towards her mother. They both started whispering something with such sheer excitement that Christian could only guess had something to do with the Queen's freely given affection.

And for a moment Christian was completely overtaken by his astounding love for the woman whose birthday was being celebrated. Not because she was beautiful, though she was very much, but because she was kind. And because everywhere she went she made people feel loved and appreciated. As if they all were equally as important to her as her very own children.

He knew this. He had realized it hundreds of times before, each time coming to him with a shock of discovery. She was kind to everyone and that made it so much more special that she was also kind to him. He needed her kindness, her compassion, her gentle forgetfulness of so many of his faults and weaknesses. He was so overtaken with a passion and longing and need, with a desire to be held and hold. It was enough to bring any grown man to his knees with the way her eyes glowed. Holding sincere happiness and love for every person that she met.

With the stealth of a wildcat, he hurried down the stairs so quickly it might have looked a little inhuman in the way he moved. Gripping his parcel in his hands he approached the group. Many people, realized that their King had just materialized out of nowhere and began making a large pathway to the Queen. She had her back to him and had not yet realized the crowd around her dispersing. Her focus was on a small group of ladies discussing something Christian had not caught. For a moment he hesitated, then reaching out his fingers he timidly rubbed the first two on the sleeves that just barely covered her shoulders. It would have been inappropriate for him to stroke the bare skin on her shoulder blades in front of everyone standing there. He would be sure to sneak a few moments of touching her skin with his bare hands this evening when they were dancing.

She stopped saying whatever she had been saying moments before and turned her large, heavy skirts around to face whomever had touched her.

Her eyes immediately registered surprise at seeing him standing there in his iridescent costume. She caught her breath in a soft sigh and looked up into Christian's ocean eyes.

She was even more beautiful up close then he had realized. Her irises were dancing, the corners of her lips threatening to turn up into a dazzling smile. She had gained weight and looked so much better then the last time he had seen her. Her cheeks fuller, her bones didn't protrude the way they had before, giving her soft healthy glow.

He had such an overwhelming urge to kiss her that it nearly caused him to go weak-kneed. He held his ground, knowing it would be inappropriate to do so here, but he wasn't sure how long he was going to be able to keep that composure. After having not seen her in months, the dull ache in his heart was only going to be satisfied one way and frankly, he wasn't going to tolerate living with it much longer.

Belle regained her senses quicker then he had and curtsied demurely. "Your Highness," she said with her clear musical voice. "It is so kind of you to come tonight. I thank you."

Gently, taking her wrist in his hand he lifted her delicate fingers until they brushed his lips and then he let them go.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." He murmured so that only those standing very close could hear. Then giving her a small bow in return he took the parcel out of the crook of his arm and handed it to her with delight swimming in his eyes. "Happy Birthday, My Queen. And many happy returns."

Belle held the gift in her hands and knew that it was a book. He always gave her a book. Attached was a rose of stunning color and it's perfume misted the air around the book making it smell like sunshine. She didn't even take the time to study the title, only glanced at it long enough to register that it was written in Italian and was probably something new that Christian had picked up on his journey away.

What did snatch away Belle's attention from the book and the rose was what was supposed to come next. She knew the script of this exchange, having lived through it for ten years before the twins were born. This was the point that Christian would whisk her away into a private corner and then kiss her deeply, causing her heart to hammer in her chest as it always did when it realized how close his heart was to hers.

But Christian didn't do it. He simply offered her his arm and smiled pleasantly at her as the rest of the crowd found their places in line.

Belle felt a nagging disappointment. Her heart gave a jolt in her chest as if to remind her that she had been cheated. The script wasn't finished, as if Christian had written her a book but then ripped out the last two pages so now she did not know the ending to the story.

Unfortunately, Belle did not have time to dwell on this long, as precisely at seven o'clock the chimes rang the hour and the doors burst open to a ridiculous display of light, color, and sound emanating from the ball room. It was covered in roses and colorful drapes with thousands of candles bursting with flame, causing the color to dance across the floor and shimmer in the air like fairies. The hired musicians sat on the dais with their instruments and immediately ended their last ditty as the doors swung open to reveal the King and Queen standing in the doorway. All the guests currently in attendance at the ball bowed low to the ground at the sight of their monarchs.

Christian and Belle filed into the ballroom and were announced officially and then allowed room for the rest of the King's men and the Queen's ladies to filter in as well. Once all the announcements were given, many of the guests resumed their conversations or made their way to Belle to wish her a happy birthday. She was instantly swarmed and by simply having her arm around his, so was he. He had a sudden sense of claustrophobia and wished very desperately to extradite himself from the crowd. But by so doing he would have to release Belle to them and he did not wish to do that. So it was to his great relief that the musicians began another dance almost immediately after the group had calmed from the entry of the King and Queen.

Christian turned Belle around and drew her attention away from everyone else and back towards him. She looked at him questioningly, as if weary of what might happen next between them. With a sly smile he bowed low and spoke loud enough to be heard over the crowd that was slowly making formations for the Minuet.

"Might I have the first dance of the evening, My Lady?"

Belle would have fallen over had her corset not kept her body so stiffly erect. Christian had not danced with her in so long she could not remember the last time he had even consented to watch someone dancing, let alone participate. Which was a terrible travesty because he was particularly wonderful at it. It was one thing he had picked up quickly from the very beginning of his education. It extended all the way into the first spell with Lumiere trying to teach the Beast steps when the poor candle stick didn't have any feet in which to demonstrate with.

Christian seemed to sense her hesitation because his eyes became less sly, and more imploring. The last thing he needed was for Belle to refuse him a dance in front of the entire court. But, with an inward sigh of relief, she tentatively took his hand and allowed him to steer her into line with the rest of the dancing partners.

She didn't let her eyes leave his immaculately clean shaven face. He seemed to see everyone around her before allowing his eyes to rest inside hers. She wanted an explanation for his strange behavior. She was fully aware that just yesterday he wouldn't leave his stay rooms because of what Lumiere referred to as, "one of his moods". This had indicated to her that he most likely wasn't coming to her birthday, which he hadn't done in years. But then here he was, looking much like a shiny wrapped gift himself in his lavishing costume and seeming to have recovered almost all the mobility in his once broken leg. Or at least he was pretending that he had, it was hard to tell. The music began to play with a steady sure melody leading the rest of the accompaniment to weave notes around the dancers. The steps were measured and lovely and Belle found herself being enveloped into it. Christian had her hand and her heart fluttered in her chest when he squeezed it quickly before releasing it to switch partners as the dance demanded. After a few moments they were back together and his hands once more captured hers. She wished that whomever had dictated the lineup of dances for the evening would have picked a song that required the partners to hold one another instead of keeping everyone at arms length. Her eyes traveled along his figure, watching him intently as he made every step deliberate and sure. Never once putting a toe out of alignment. For a moment it would seem that he didn't see anyone in the room but his own steps and the look of deep concentration on his face as he tried to remember what came next in the dance. He must have noticed her stare for after this he didn't take his eyes off of the wife in his hands. She slowly let a smile creep across her face and allowed him to guide her into place with the next partner. As she took the hands of the Count in line with her, she felt a few fingers brush her shoulder blade and then retreat. She turned her face around just for a moment to see him looking at her innocently as if he couldn't fathom why she would have turned around. It happened at least three more times throughout the dance. His hand brushing her elbow, a cautionary finger tickling the small hairs on the back of her neck, a palm placed gently around her corseted waist.

And then, all too soon, the dance ended with Christian's head bowed and Belle's complimentary curtsy. She slowly raised herself to her full height and dared to look up into the face of her dancing partner. To her astonishment he was gazing so intently at her, as if he had something very important to say that was just sitting on the tip of his tongue. And for that moment, time stood still and they two were the only people in the room. She found herself drowning in his eyes and had no desire to come up for air. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth and she wanted to ask him what he could possibly be smiling about. But the moment ended and the Lord Chamberlain made the announcement that dinner was being served. Without preamble Christian gathered Belle's arm in his own and led her through the ballroom doors into the dining hall where an obscenely lavish dinner had been prepared and laid out. Five times the amount of food awaited the guests then was to be eaten this night and Christian wished he had been aware enough to ask for expenses to be spared to a measure. But since it was too late now he deemed he was going to have to just be glad it was Belle's birthday and not begrudge her the celebration. She deserved it.

Once the King and Queen had been seated and all the women had had their chairs snugly pushed in, servants spilled out of the kitchen with warm bowls of water and towels to dip their fingers. Christian and Belle did this without much thought behind the action and were served the first course of the evening. Many little conversations went on throughout the first three sections of the meal and several times Belle tried to turn to her husband and engage him in conversation. But each time her attentions were snatched away by a Noble sitting close to her, or else she would find him in deep conversation with the guests sitting on the opposite side of the table and was not able to steal him away from their political dialogue. She soon grew bored of the whole thing and wished that for just this once she could break etiquette and just be downright rude. This, she knew, Christian would not like and so she refrained. How different he was when around strangers and guests then he ever was with her in private. Of course she had not been with him in private in so long she was sure she could not remember what he was actually like.  
She sighed deeply and pushed the food around on her plate wishing people would remember that, for at least her birthday, Christian was her husband first and their king second. She watched as the conversation lagged between himself and several members of the court. He seemed a tad distracted and was looking around the room anxiously, as if he could not wait to leave at a moments break in the celebration. The courtiers continued to talk as if Christian was still a part of their discussion, not minding that he could care less about anything they were saying. Without thinking, Christian raised his spoon up to his lips, he paused, listening to the sounds of servants moving about the table and hundreds of guests talking and laughing and making plans for the ball as it would continue throughout the night. The spoon he was holding was filled to the brim with the most perfect example of Bouillabaisse and for a moment he paused, spoon poised closely to his lips. Quite suddenly someone dropped a glass very near Christian's seat and though most people did not even pause in their conversation to notice, Christian turned his head at the random noise. This was the moment that his spoon finally went through with it's threats of spilled the soup all down the front of Christian's perfectly tailored Iridescent-White dinner jacket. The soup was hot and Christian noticed it immediately. His face registered surprise at first and then darkened to a look of outrage. His eyes rested down on the spoon in his hand and he glared at it impressively.

Belle, after all her anxiety about her husband and after a night that was starting to feel like a serious let-down, couldn't stop the laughter that erupted inside her chest and out her mouth. She picked up her serviette and placed it in front of her mouth to mimic having a fit of coughing. Unfortunately Christian had heard her initial burst of laughter as he was seated right next to her and quite suddenly his glare was upon her, though not nearly as harsh looking as it had been at the offending spoon.

"Are you laughing at me, Madam?"

Belle waited a moment, attempting to contain her laughter with the cloth still pressed to her nose and mouth. Her shoulders continued to shake with silent giggling and Christian set his spoon down and turned to face her completely for the fist time that whole evening. Belle peeked out behind her serviette and looked as the thick, fishy soup dripped down his front and stained his jacket. She took a deep breath and lowered her hands to her lap and tried to command her face to behave.

"Of course not, Your Grace." She said, but the irony gave her away and he knew immediately that she was mocking him. He gazed at her face frankly and it made her squirm with both nerves and pleasure.

"Good. I didn't think you would be quite that childish." he continued with his own touch of irony in his voice. Chagrined, Belle narrowed her eyes at him. This coming from the man who throws temper tantrums that could rival the most hostile of toddlers, she thought to herself.

"On the contrary, My Lord," she replied with sugary sarcasm. "I am quite shocked and dismayed at the behavior of that spoon. How dare it spill it's contents down the front of the King? In fact, I don't think you should allow this offense to go unpunished!"

She smiled a wicked grin at him and then lifted the spoon into the air, waving down her personal server. He stepped over to her immediately and held out his hand to take Christian's spoon.

"Jon, please take this spoon to the dungeon where it will be tried and executed. It has been most disrespectful."

Jon held the spoon in his hand for a moment, not knowing where the strangely sarcastic humor from the Queen was coming from but nodded his head and walked out the side door into the kitchens, spoon in hand.

Christian watched the whole interaction with both humor and dismay playing on his features. This was the most peculiar behavior he had ever seen from Belle and he wasn't entirely sure that he disliked it. He looked her up and down, taking in her stunning costume that was only rivaled by her beautiful face. Her figure was hidden beneath hundreds of yards of fabric and he tried not to let his imagination conjure up images of her without it on. Resting his eyes back on her face he slowly started to unbutton his soiled jacket.

"I have a feeling you would not find this so funny if I were to, say, pour some of my soup down this lovely pink dress of yours." Again his eyes flitted to her tightly clad bodice before he forced them back up to her face.

Belle waved her hand airily in front of her face as if his words were like a persistent insect.

"I would not care in the slightest. In fact I think you should go right ahead. Give these people something to talk about for weeks. The King himself hurling food onto the Queen right in the middle of her birthday celebration."

And with her last words she dipped her petite finger into her bowl of chocolate soufflé and spread the sticky substance onto the tip of Christian's nose. It wasn't certain who was more shocked by her action. Christian or Belle. For a moment neither spoke as they regarded one another. Shaking his head he picked up his own serviette and wiped the chocolate off his nose. Then with intensity he shrugged his stained jacket off himself and draped it over the back of his chair. Belle admired his lithe figure while he was occupied with the gaudy garment and wished more then anything to touch his chest, so tightly fitted with his finery. Then he spoke, pulling her out of her fantasy with his continuation of their banter.

"I hope you know how very _exasperating_ you can be when you choose." Belle felt nettled at his matter-of-fact statement.

"And _you_ can be very childish when you choose."

Christian glared at her and shook his head, slightly reminiscent of a dog. "Well _you_ happen to be quite annoying when you want to."

It wasn't true. He was scrambling for barbs and that was truly the best he could do. Belle returned his glare and felt her face flush with aggravation. She raised her voice and rose an inch or so in her chair as she turned her whole body to face him. At this point several members of the court that were sitting around them were turning their heads to watch the exchange between King and Queen. The servants of the castle saw arguments like this all the time and thought nothing of it, but the Courtiers were fascinated, wondering what was going to happen between the two.

"And _you_ sir, can throw temper-tantrums fit to beat anyone I know. And that includes our three children, combined!"

This, on the other hand, happened to be true, and Christian arched his shoulders just a little bit. Belle raised her chin, waiting for him to return with another insult. He paused for a moment, glare still on his face and putting up a finger he smiled as if he had thought of something truly scathing. "And _you_, Madam, are... the most _beautiful_ thing I have ever seen in my entire life."

Belle didn't hesitate as she opened her mouth to make a return.

"And _you_!" she near-shouted right before his last statement finally went from her ears to her brain and she completely stopped mid-sentence. For a moment she sat still, looking at him as he smiled slyly at her. Then she relaxed back down into her seat and shook her head.

"That was not what I thought you were going to say."

Christian chuckled enigmatically. "I know. I relish in the fact that for the first time I am the one that leaves you speechless, instead of the other way around."

Belle put on a face of nonchalance.

"Well, don't get too used to it. You took me off guard."

Again Christian laughed and set his hand on the table, dangerously close where her hand was setting.

"No real danger in that. You are not the type of person to be fooled twice."

Neither spoke for a moment as the conversations started up again around them, now that show was obviously over. Belle paused for a moment and then looked at his profile as he stared down the table, the same devilish smile on his face.

"Did you mean it?"

He looked back at her, eyes twinkling. "Mean what?"

"What you said about my being beautiful?"

The smile lowered a few centimeters. "I have meant it every time I've said it. Ever since the day I saw you it was the only truth I had to live by."

Belle flushed at the seriousness that had entered his eyes and was startled as he suddenly stood up in his chair. The entire hall went silent almost immediately at the rise of the King in his chair. All eyes on him Christian wished he still had his dinner jacket on, and then continued.

" I want to express my thanks to all who have come to our celebration this evening. To know that there are so many friends to our Queen is a constant source of relief to myself and to my family."

Christian paused and Belle looked at him, wondering what kind of toast he was trying to present.

"In the wake of all the strangeness that has happened in our realm as of late it is good to know that we can still sit at this table and celebrate the wonderful occasion of my wife's birthday. A day I could not find more fitting for a celebration then the day this woman was born."

He quickly reached for his glass and raised it high into the air.

"To Queen Belle, may her beautiful smile always shine upon us."

At the end of his toast the entire dinning hall rose to their feet and raised their glasses high into the air. And just as they all called out loudly a hearty, "To the Queen" and "Long live the Queen" Christian leaned over until his mouth was barley an inch away from her skin, his lips teasing the small hair around her ears. With the softest of whispers he breathed so that only she could hear, "And in my heart."

Then he pressed his warm mouth against her flushed cheek and left it there for many moments after everyone had made their respect to the queen. Pulling away he tipped his glass up and was the last to drain it of it's alcoholic contents.

Smiling at the standing congregation of decorated people he made a small gesture towards the open ballroom. "Come!" He announced grandly. "Let us enjoy this night with a fine celebration. There is promise that this will be the grandest ball any has been in attendance of for a long time."

Most could recognize the dismissal and many slowly began to make their way back towards the dining room, others resumed their seats at table to finish off another bottle of the wine. Christian, still standing, looked down at Belle, who was still seated. They considered each other for a good while. Finally she pressed her gloved hands together with a smile. "Thank you, your Majesty"

Her husband nodded down to her. "Your welcome"

Then with a kind smile he once more reached down for her hand and gently brought it to his lips. "Thank you for having me, My Lady."

A crease formed in her brown as she looked up into his brightly lit face. "You are leaving? Won't you stay for the Ball?"

Pressing his lips together in a look of regret he shook his head no. "Do forgive me. I am afraid these gatherings are not the same for me as they used to be."

Her look was so pleading and childlike that it almost broke his resolve. But he had plans for her and he had no intention of letting a silly ball ruin them. With a kind but reserved nod he set her hand back down on her lap and allowed his fingers to brush her palm as he murmured a soft "Good Evening, My Queen." Before taking his jacket and turning himself about to exit the dining room doors.


	43. Eventide

**Authors Note:** _Alright so this is the second to last chapter that will be posted. I decided to wait and post the last two together because I wanted to go out with a bit of a bang. Much to say about that later, if you even end up getting through this chapter._

_So this was something of what I had envisioned the ending of my story to be and something not. Everything I have written started off as something completely different then I had intended but I am really proud of how it all turned out._

_I think it could have probably ended a few chapters ago but I wanted everything to have a nice symmetry to it and we have most definitely come full circle. If I do say so myself._

_Now_ SPOILER ALERT: If you do not wish to be spoiled discontinue reading this BUT if you are a huge prude then you might want to take a gander. SPOILER ALERT!_

_This chapter is very romantic. As I have stated before I am not a romance novelist so there will be no actual sex in this. I may not have technically created the character of the prince from Beauty and the Beast but I kind of made up Christian as he is mostly based off the prince. So for me to write about him doing the big deed with Belle would be just plain yucky! Like peeping on my own child or something. But this story is still rated T. If you are from the U.S. that would be like PG-13 or something. This gets a little sensual and there is some lovin' going on but nothing graphic so you can uncover your eyes unless you just can't abide by a few kisses. In which case, you're missing out. END OF SPOILER ALERT!_

_I will wait to give my final notes on the next chapter but I hope you enjoy this one thoroughly. I know I did writing it. Hugs and Kisses and…yeah…._

_Reviews!_

_As for the song inspiration, there is one song that has always reminded me of Beauty and the Beast and even though it is clichéd and over played and CHEEEEEESSSSYYY I still would like to dedicate it to this chapter. I think it has a lot of that bittersweet feel that the story of Beauty and the Beast brings._

_So for your pleasure this is Angel by Sarah McLachlan_

**Spend all your time waiting**  
**For that second chance**  
**For a break that would make it okay**  
**There's always one reason**  
**To feel not good enough**  
**And it's hard at the end of the day**  
**I need some distraction**  
**Oh beautiful release**  
**Memory seeps from my veins**  
**Let me be empty**  
**And weightless and maybe**  
**I'll find some peace tonight**

**So tired of the straight line**  
**And everywhere you turn**  
**There's vultures and thieves at your back**  
**And the storm keeps on twisting**  
**You keep on building the lie**  
**That you make up for all that you lack**  
**It don't make no difference**  
**Escaping one last time**  
**It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh**  
**This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees**

**In the arms of an angel**  
**Fly away from here**  
**From this dark cold hotel room**  
**And the endlessness that you fear**  
**You are pulled from the wreckage**  
**Of your silent reverie**  
**You're in the arms of the angel**  
**May you find some comfort there**  
**You're in the arms of the angel**  
**May you find some comfort here**

**Chapter Forty-Three: Eventide**

* * *

At first Christian sat at his desk chair, but that only lasted for perhaps a few minutes. Then he stood at his window, at his desk, at the door to his closet. He paced the floor a hundred times over. He prostrated himself down on his back in the middle of the room with his arms stretched out on either side of him and then rolled over onto his stomach when his first position became uncomfortable. He stoked the fire and rearranged the books on his shelf. He smoothed the covers of the bed and examined the dresses that had been brought in by the two evening maids. He ran his hands along the fabric and smelled the perfume of their owner. He soon grew bored of all of this and thought to change his plan for the evening due to restlessness.

Then after much waiting the hour struck midnight and Christian opened the door to his room and walked out, right on schedule.

He loved midnight. It was a perfect time of day. Everything seemed to be right in the middle and new. Like new life being born, a day at midnight still had time to be perfect. It still had hope and purpose and the promise of pleasure.

This also happened to be the usual hour that Belle retired to her rooms. Christian knew Belle's routine like the back of his hand and he knew that even on her birthday Belle would spend the rest of her evening gossiping in her room with her ladies until they all fell asleep.

He took his time to get down the corridor. Then, approaching the double-doors with caution, he stepped close and pressed his ear against the wood. His hearing allowed him to understand each syllable that was being said and the general location of the speaker inside the room. From the sounds of it Belle was on or close to her bed, the ladies were scattered about the room. They were discussing the decorations of the ball and what a lovely job the servants had done in the preparation of the food.

Christian smiled to himself and then stood up strait. He smoothed the front and sleeves of his jacket before knocking purposefully at the door.

Quite abruptly the laughter ceased inside the room. The silence was laughable and Christian could hear the scrambling of several women getting to their feet and hurrying to cover something or another. Belle muttered something that Christian couldn't quite catch and then he heard her ask one of her ladies to get the door.

After a moment a small face peeked through a crack in the door. When the girl realized who was standing on the other side she immediately opened the entry way wider. This revealed several women standing in the middle of the room with startled looks on their faces. Belle was still in her ball gown but had let her hair out to fall down where it seemed to continue on forever down her back. Christian couldn't help his face breaking into a broad smile as he looked at her and he had to stifle a sigh of pleasure.

The ladies gave curtsies and Belle cocked her head to the side in confusion. "Your Highness, I thought you had already retired for the evening."

Christian took a ginger step into the room and nodded to the bowing women all around him. "Not quite yet." He replied, all eyes on him.

Belle looked a little alarmed and brought her hand up to her chest. "Is anything wrong?"

He gazed back at her for a moment and then at her ladies. He held up a hand with a mischievous grin. "Just a moment Belle, I've come to speak to your ladies."

The women looked from one to the other, not having any clue what he could have come to talk to them about in the middle of the night.

With a slight bow Christian looked all around the brightly lit room. "I must entreat you, Mademoiselles, with a sincere apology."

For a moment no one spoke. Then the one who had opened the door caught her tongue and blurted out what everyone else was thinking. "What exactly are you apologizing for, Your Majesty?"

With a look of deep regret he gave a slight nod in Belle's direction. "For depriving you of your entertainment this evening. I promise to return her to you in a few hours."

And without another word he strode purposefully towards Belle. She gave a startled cry as he placed one hand firmly on her back and bent his knees, his other hand on the back of her legs. With a quick breath he lifted her and her massive dress into his arms while she gripped the front of his coat for dear life. He paused and looked at her and almost laughed as her mouth fell open in surprise, but no sound came out. He turned towards the door and all the ladies stood back as the King began to make his way out of the room.

"Wait!" Belle nearly shouted from her perch in his arms.

Alarmed, he looked down at her and said "What is it?" as he tightened his hold on her waist.

She waved her hand in the direction of her nightstand. "My book, my book my book!" She said excitedly.

Christian whirled around in the direction she was pointing to see the book he had given her for her birthday. It was sitting neatly on her nightstand next to the rose in a crystal vase of water. He smiled grandly at it and then with the same mock insistence he looked to the servant standing closest to the bed. "Grab the book! Quickly, quickly!"

The woman laughed and then placed the book into the queen's outstretched hands.

With a bound of energy Christian was at the door in four large strides.

"If you would please open the door for us, my hands are a bit full at the moment." He said with a smile to the woman who had opened the door in the first place. With just a half turn of his head he threw back a "Good Evening, My ladies", as Belle waved an ecstatic hand over his shoulder.

When he reached the doors to his room his man servant, Jon, was waiting for him to open his door. Christian nodded to him gratefully and then dismissed him with a few words. Jon, looked from Christian, to Belle in his arms, and then back to his master again. He watched as the pair disappeared inside Christian's stay rooms up until the last possible moment he could before closing the door entirely.

With a sign Christian walked a few paces into his room and then slowly lowered Belle onto her feet. When he was sure she was steady he let out his air and rolled his shoulders with a groan.

"Thank God! What in the world is that dress made of? Did they sew rocks into the seams? I thought my arms were going to fall off!"

Belle, still entirely taken aback that Christian was physically and mentally present with her, let out a laugh that was bordering on overexcited.

"I don't know." She replied looking down at her yards and yards of skirts. "They insist on these gowns every year." She paused for a moment, surveying him. "And what have they done to your hair?"

Christian, realizing that he was still decorated like an over-pampered lap-dog, tried to pull out the pins that were holding the top layer of hair to his head. It was painful and he stuck himself. Belle laughed at the way he opened his mouth to curse, then remembered she was in the room and closed his lips quickly.

"Come here." She said with a wave that he get close enough for her to help him. With a smile he knelt down on the ground so that she would be able to reach the back of his head and tried not to relish too much as his heart picked up it's pace the moment her fingers grazed his hair.

"Why do they make you look like this?" She asked as she removed the pink rose from his golden-red mane.

"They want to effeminize me. It's the latest fashion."

With a dismissive shake of her head his hair tumbled down to his shoulders and because he was till kneeling she couldn't help but run her fingers through it. It was the most intimate contact they had had since before he left and she was almost unable to stop herself from running her hand along his neck and down his broad shoulders.

He looked up at her over his shoulder when she had grown silent for several moments and smiled. "All better?"

She smiled back, still wondering what in the world she was doing in his room in the middle of the night.

"Much better." She affirmed with a curious quirk to her eyebrow.

He then quickly got to his feet and straitened out his jacket.

"Good." He said firmly and taking her hand, led her to the soft sofa on the opposite side of the room.

"Would you like to have a seat?" He said with gentility. She nodded and gathered her skirts up before taking a seat. He walked over to the fireplace and stoked the fire all the while asking her questions over his shoulder.

"Are you warm enough? Would you like another blanket?"

She looked around her to see that several pillows and a blanket were setting on the sofa, warm and ready to curl up underneath.

"Yes, thank you." She replied.

"Is there anything I can get you?" He asked, finally halting for a moment to look at her with sincerity on his face.

"No…" she said, turning her head to the side as he smiled a quick smile at her and then briskly turned himself around and made his way across his room to his desk.

"What are you doing?" she asked, pulling the blanket across her voluminous lap.

"Oh, I have work to do." He replied without looking at her.

Her eyes narrowed at him and she straitened her back to see that his desk was covered in layer after layer of parchments.

"What am I supposed to do then?" She asked a little chagrined that he would pull her out of her room in the middle of the night to watch him read inquiries.

"You have your book." He replied matter-of-factly as if this should be obvious to her.

Then loosening the cravat around his neck he took a seat at his desk. She shrugged her shoulders at his peculiar behavior and pulled her book out from under her arm, opening it to the first page.

Christian paused for a moment, knowing that he would have to open his desk drawer sooner or later. His hearing and sense of smell may be impeccable but his eyesight was still becoming ridiculously poor.

With a pathetic sigh he reached out and opened the drawer to his desk and pulled out the little wooden box that contained his precious spectacles. He could feel Belle's eyes on the back of his head. She was curiously looking to see what he had hiding inside the intricately carved wooden box. He shifted in his seat so that he was sitting sideways in his chair, the box setting on his lap. Opening it carefully, he gently pulled out the folded glass and metal. With a resigned face he unfolded them and gave Belle a grim look as he conscientiously set them on his face around his ears.

Belle looked at him with an expression of deep concentration as her husband placed the spectacles on his face. This was hard for him, she could tell. It was an admittance that his body was no longer doing exactly what he told it to do and was, in fact, getting older without his permission. He was waiting for her to laugh, or to at least feel a sense of amusement at him. Her head went to the side as no one spoke and then without a word or any other kind of facial expression she went back to reading the first page of her book.

Christian sat there for a moment, wondering what she was thinking, but not really knowing how to gage that distance. Finally he just shrugged and turned himself around in an attempt to fend off the growing pile of papers scattered all over his desk.

The minutes stretched on as he scratched away marks on all his various documents, while the only other sound was the occasional turn of a page.

Belle lifted her head from her book and gazed at her husbands bent form. The hour struck half past midnight and he seemed to be completely absorbed in his work. She waited for a few moments and then finally spoke up, unable to hold in her thoughts anymore.

"I just have….I just have one question." She said timidly.

His head came up the moment she started speaking and setting his quill down he turned to face her.

"What is it?"

"What changed your mind?"

Christian paused for a moment and then looked back down at the papers on his desk. He wasn't sure he was ready for this conversation. If it started it might not ever end and he just didn't know if he was ready to stay afloat when that flood hit him. She interpreted his silence as she always had, knowing his entire thought process just by the turn of his head.

"Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. You know what I mean."

He breathed deeply and then looked back up at her, resting his arm on the back of his chair.

"Nothing has changed. I have loved you from the very start. Perhaps more now then I did then."

He paused and looked at her. She watched him, her face telling him that she wasn't going to let it rest with that. She wanted real answers and…something else. She wanted something else from him that he wasn't quite yet able to understand.

"I….just couldn't lose you, Belle. You have to understand that I did everything because I needed to keep you safe. Even if it meant from me."

His words held years of pain and she saw once more how they etched their patterns on his face. The weight of worry and fear of losing her had made him old and she wished he had just let her in enough to make it right.

"Didn't it matter at all what I wanted?"

Christian felt a flare of irritation at this question. How could she ask him that? Everything she wanted was the sole purpose of his existence to procure for her.

"You wanted to be dead?" He said with some bite to his words.

For a moment Belle blinked at his rhetorical question. The sudden swing of annoyance in his voice had taken her by surprise and she scrambled to keep up.

"Of course I didn't want to be dead. I just wanted to be with you. Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

He shifted his weight in his chair and the resemblance was uncanny to an animal crouching before an attack.

"You don't remember what it was like. You don't know how it felt to watch you die, slowly in my arms and not be able to do a thing about it!"

She glared at him from her perch on the couch, feeling a deep pang of hurt as he dredged up the real cause for their separation once more. The wounds that his words caused her were just beginning to think about healing and she wasn't ready to handle them so roughly.

"You're right! I don't know, nor remember. You never let me in! You left me in that room just as effectively as if you had left the castle entirely. You were drunk all the time for the first six months and then after that I barely saw you again! Whoever you were you weren't my Christian and that scared me!"

Suddenly a low quiver had entered her voice and left a prickle on his skin.

"God, do you know what it was like for _me_? Every day I heard something different about what you were up to. The pity that filled everyone's eyes when you were mentioned in my presence was intolerable. I missed you so much and I was angry with you for the things everyone was saying about you! How dare you give them reason to, Christian! I was so scared that they were all true. I thought… I thought-"

Christian's heart gave a jolt as his arm swung out and pounded hard on the desk. It gave a loud thump and several papers flew off in various directions. It was better then hearing her finish that sentence. He couldn't bare it.

"I know what you thought!" he near-shouted.

She had gone rigidly silent and her eyes filled up with tears at his display of violence. She put a hand to her mouth, as if to hold in her emotions. He ran his hands through his tangle of hair and pulled his head down into a bow that caused his chin to touch his chest.

"That's the worst possible thing…" he paused, trying to find the right words as jumbles of sentences danced around in his brain, evading any proper speech pattern he might have had.

"I have done terrible things in my life, but never that. I have never even considered it." He looked up at her with reproach in his eyes that broke her heart and she leaned further into the cushions of the couch as if to distance herself from it.

"Everyone in this whole world knew for sure that I was worthless, Belle. And they would have been right, but for the fact that you are the only thing that has ever really mattered to me. But if you believe them…. If you start believing them too…."

Belle shook her head violently, her tears threatening to spill over. "I don't!"

He looked up at her and they sat in silence for a moment as he digested that. Whether he believed it or not, apparently he was accepting it.

"For me….There isn't anyone else but you."

She waited a few moments and wrung her hands. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

He shook his head in a gesture that indicated he was shaking off what she had just said.

"I don't want you to be. Stop feeling badly." He shifted his body as if to say that he was done talking. This did more to irritate her then any of his words.

"Well, I do feel badly. I feel badly quite often these days. I thought I'd lost you! In so many ways, I thought I'd lost you..."

He gritted his teeth for a moment and then shook his head again. "You didn't lose me, I'm sitting right here!"

"That's what I'm trying to say, Christian. You haven't been right here. This is the first time I've been in your room in years. Literally years. You told me why and I understand. But what else do we have to go through for you to just talk to me about this."

He looked down at his knees and sighed deeply. This was not going how he had planned it. In fact it had turned directly around in a matter of minutes and now he was thinking he had made a mistake. Perhaps, he thought, he should just escort her back to her room and try again on another day. All he wanted was for them to just be able to sit in the same room without some tragedy breaking loose.

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? You know that I am, I have told you as much."

"No, I don't want you to apologize anymore."

"Then what!" He exploded, wishing she would just let them sit in peace without dredging up things he couldn't change. "Tell me what you need me to say! I need you Belle, I need you all the time! I miss you! I'm tired and weary and lonely and scared!" His voice faltered for a moment at the last word but he swallowed it and plunged on. "Are those the things you need to hear?"

Her face crumpled for a moment, "I need you to tell me that you forgive me!" She finally cried out to him.

There was dead silence in the room. He gave her a look of consternation and gripped the back of his chair more firmly. The words from his dream, the ones the old man version of himself had told him, came echoing back into his head. "Don't go there." He finally murmured to her as she fought to control her face and her emotions. "You are not the one in this room that needs forgiveness."

Belle rolled her red-rimmed eyes at him. "Everyone needs forgiveness, 'Tian. And you have yet to give me any."

"For what? What is it that you think I need to forgive you for?" He released his grip on his chair but his body language was clenched and tight, ready to spring into action at a moments notice.

"For hurting you." She paused, thinking about what to say and how to say it just right. "For…letting you take all the blame when the twins were born."

Christian stood up at that moment and made his way towards the window. The room suddenly felt too warm, which was new. His clothing was starting to feel like chains, wrapped around his arms and middle, cutting off his airway. "That is absolutely ridiculous, Belle. You cannot apologize for getting sick after giving birth. These things happen and there wasn't anything you could do about it."

"That didn't stop you from getting hurt." She replied, then in a much quieter voice she looked back at him. "I remember now."

He turned to face her from his proximity to the window. He gripped the lapel of his vest with one hand. "You do? I thought you said you didn't…."

She looked back at him, still not moving from her spot on the sofa. "I'm starting to…a little. It's coming back to me in pieces. But I remember your face…. How tired you looked. I remember how you sat up with me all night for most nights and hardly ever slept for weeks. I remember how the twins didn't look anything like the children I had given birth to the first time I saw them. They were so big and I remember how you held them close to you and loved them when I didn't even get a chance to. And….I hated you for it."

She was crying by this point. Silent tears were streaming down her face and Christian couldn't breath. He didn't want to hear this. He was back inside his dream-vision and unable to stop the flow of her words. "I was angry with you Christian and you've been angry with me. None of it was fair and I just want you back now. And I want you to know that I'm sorry. I didn't mean for anything bad that happened to happen. I just wanted to rest and go where it didn't hurt anymore and you wouldn't let me. Thank God you didn't let me, but in the process you were hurt. And now, I can't sit and watch you drag this out anymore. You'll kill us both."

Christian cringed at her harsh, but true words. "Forgiving you would force me to admit that you had done something wrong."

She shrugged her shoulders at him. "Then admit it."

"That is the problem with this whole conversation! You didn't do anything wrong! Stop saying it and stop thinking it! And stop trying to play the martyr here!"

That was entirely the wrong thing to say. She finally lost it, there on his sofa. Placing her hands on her face she started to cry in earnest and he nearly started to do the same. Knowing everything that happened was his fault he walked over to her quickly. It was more then just an impulse reaction. He just didn't care anymore about the walls that were built up around them and crashed through them the way he would paper. When he reached her side he took her arm in his hand and as gently as a he would lift a babe into his arms he slid his body behind hers. Placing his left leg underneath himself and allowing his right to dangle over the side of the sofa. He wrapped his arms around her and smoothed away the massive tangle of hair that had fallen into her face.

"Shhhhhh…." He whispered tenderly into her ear and she leaned back onto his chest and let him hold her for several moments as her softly falling tears subsided. "I'm sorry….I didn't mean that. Please don't cry."

She gave a soft hiccupping sigh. "It's alright." She murmured and wondered at the fact that he was entirely wrapped around her body with his own. "You were right."

"I'm never right, Belle. In which case it means that I should do as you ask." He tightened his hold on her and pressed his forehead into her temple. "I forgive you…" he whispered softly. The wet tears on her cheeks dripped onto his arm and he used his thumbs to wipe

them away. "….for everything that has ever happened between us that you feel badly about, I forgive you for."

The only thing Belle could do was nod her head and they sat that way in silence, both sets of eyes closed to allow the moment to settle into their hearts.

Finally Belle turned her head to look at him again with a sigh of what could only be interpreted as relief. "It's taken us a very long time to get here, don't you think?"

"That would also be my fault."

"Stop saying that." She murmured to him, running a hand along the collar of his shirt. "Not everything that happens is your fault. You are too hard on yourself."

He gave a self-depreciating chuckle and wrapped his hand more firmly around her shoulder, across her chest.

"Need I remind you that you are talking to the most flawed man on the continent? The same man who carries a sole responsibility for his family's death. Who had his first drink at age eight and was first time drunk at age ten. The same man who visited his first brothel, with his father, at age nine and who oversaw his first execution at age eight and a half. This is the same man who locked up an elderly gentleman in a dungeon in the middle of the winter and left him there to die of-"

"Stop! Stop, stop stop!" Belle cried out in alarm and turned herself away from him so that she could place a firm palm over Christian's opened mouth as he prepared to lay out even more of his hated offenses.

She glared at him for a moment with her hand over his soft lips. He looked down, feeling angry at himself for dragging all those things up again when it wasn't necessary.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you." He said quietly through her fingers. It was muffled and she pulled her hand away to look deeply at him.

"You don't. You upset yourself and then I have to watch as you tear up the castle or yourself or both because you don't trust me to just love you the way you are."

He looked away from her constant stare and then shrugged his shoulders at her assessment of him. "Well, you are a little strange."

She paused for a moment as the words came out of his mouth. "I beg your pardon." She said with a look of concern on her face. Where had that come from?

A small smile began to twinge at his mouth as he again looked down on her.

"That is the only explanation I can come up with to describe your ridiculous insistence on loving someone like me. You could have done better. You should have married someone who wasn't always being dragged away from you. Someone whose brain was built properly so that he didn't get himself into so many stupid messes. Someone from your village who worked hard and provided for you with his own two hands instead of relying on everyone else to do it for him."

Belle shook her head with a knowing smile on her lips. She stretched herself out against him and her small stocking covered foot stuck out from inside her voluminous dress.

"Christian, if I had wanted someone like that I would have married Gaston and had seven children while running that tavern he was so fond of."

She gave a small little laugh as he snapped his fingers loudly enough to echo off the walls.

"That's it! Gaston! Blast I couldn't remember that fool's name for the life of me."

Belle gave him a curious look out of the corner of her eyes. "Why were you trying to remember him?"

He shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "Something Sophia had asked me. It would seem I am losing my memory along with my eyesight."

She nodded her acknowledgement and started to trace her finger along his big strong hand that was wrapped tightly around her waist. You never know how safe you actually feel inside the arms of the man you love until they no longer hold you. At that moment Belle was remembering and she didn't know what she was going to do if he took those arms away from her again.

"You told her everything." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes." He replied cautiously. "Are you angry?"

She shook her head immediately. "No, I only wish that I had been there to tell it."

He looked away sadly at the window and frowned at the moon peeking inside through the glass. "I needed you there to help me tell it."

Neither spoke after that as they sat on the sofa listening to each other's soft breathing.

Belle sighed deeply as she looked about her husband's stay room and realized that not much had changed in all the years she had not spent her nights here. It still had that same Christian smell to it, reminding her of wild roses and wet grass.

She shivered as he ran a hand along her arm tenderly and let his fingers trail all the way down to her open palm where he traced the lines that lived there.

"What are you thinking about?" He murmured into her soft hair, his voice intoxicated with her scent.

She smiled at his close proximity and quirked her head to the side.

"You're different now."

"How so?"

"I'm not sure, I wish I could pinpoint exactly what it is that makes you different from who you were before. Perhaps it is just that I have missed you so much."

Christian shrugged his shoulders as if he wasn't sure how to answer that statement. Then looked back down at her upturned face.

"I… met myself. As an old man, that is."

He said this humorously, just in case she didn't believe him. But she merely quirked her eyebrow and gave him an interested smile.

"That must have been quite the interview. And what was my Christian like as an old man?"

The current Christian, in her arms, gave a sour face. "A right old bastard, he was. By the way, if I ever pick up the nasty habit of poking people with my cane would you be so kind as to remind me of this conversation."

Belle laughed softly and her hair bounced against his face driving him absolutely out of his mind with desire for her. "I will be sure to mention it." She answered never once questioning the legitimacy of what he had just said.

He paused for a moment and then held her more tightly around the middle. "I have missed you too. So very much."

She nodded her head and reached an arm up to press her hand to his cheek. "When did you start wearing spectacles?" She asked idly, letting his last statement pass. She didn't want to think about missing at that moment.

"Three years ago, I think. I was having trouble reading and I made Cogsworth swear upon pain of death that he wouldn't tell a soul. You'd think the Enchantress would at least have done me the courtesy of fixing it but I obviously don't have that kind of luck. I still cannot see the words even when they are plainly in front of my face."

Belle listened to him prattle on about nothing and wondered when this spell between them was going to break. She was just too smart to believe that this moment could go on forever. He would get uncomfortable and very soon would escort her back to her rooms as he had told her ladies he would do. The thought made her miserable and she sighed heavily against him. What was to become of them? Were they going to play this back and forth dance forever? God forbid, she surely hoped that wasn't the case.

Christian rested his chin on the top of her head and contended himself with the silence..

Finally Belle spoke, knowing that if he wasn't going to, she might as well.

"Well Your Highness, what are we to do now? I don't suppose you had planned for me to sit here all night while you signed documents? Shall I return to my room while you work?"

Her voice was light and airy, but her suggestion still gave Christian's heart a little jolt. This caused him to immediately jump into his real purposes behind their evening.

"And spoil all the fun I have planned for you? Heaven forbid!" He replied with the same mocking tone.

She quirked her eyebrow again and turned to look at him. "And what fun would that be?"

"Well," He said as he slowly disentangled himself from around her and stood up carefully, so as not to upset her position on the sofa. Then taking a few steps back to the center of the room he faced her as a performer would to their audience. At attention and arms wide open. "As it is still your birthday, I have made a list of all the important things one must do to celebrate."

Belle's face threatened to break into a smile but she contained it. "I think my birthday has been over for an hour or so now, dear."

He shook his shaggy hair around his head and looked at her as if she had insulted him. "I say that if those leeches downstairs are allowed to celebrate all night at our expense I can say that your celebration up here will go on!"

This did make her laugh and she shrugged her dainty shoulders, letting him think what he would.

"Alright then, what is it that you have planned for us?" This was definitely something she wanted to hear.

He smiled wickedly down at her and then flicked his wrists so that the lace on his jacket flitted away from his perfectly poised hands. He was the fop again, his favorite disguise, used to hide how he was really feeling. She wondered why he was bringing that character out now, of all moments.

"First," he began with that same enigmatic grin on his face. "We shall drink a toast."

Belle thought about this for a moment and then nodded. "But what shall we drink our toast with? Are you planning on calling some poor servant from the ball to bring us up something?"

Christian waved his hand at her as if she had said something silly. "No, No, my dear. Do you think I didn't already have this planned?"

With that he practically scurried to the window and threw one of the panes open to reveal a very old and expensive bottle of wine chilling in the snow on the window sill. He took it by the neck and turned to look at her, holding it up for her inspection. "And I have two more out there, in case this isn't enough." He said taking another step in her direction.

She shook her head in disbelief. "That is your plan? To get drunk?"

He let out a soft chuckle as if he had anticipated her saying something along those lines. The sound was throaty and deep and it made her shiver with excitement as he jerked one shoulder up innocently.

"Well if you do happen to become inebriated I won't hold it against you."

Belle wondered if she should be offended by that statement as he set the cold bottle on the table next to her sofa.

"But otherwise I hope we will continue on with tonight's plans."

"And those would be?" She asked in mock impatience.

"Once the wine is finished we shall dance your favorite dance from the balls we used to hold at this dilapidated old castle. Then we shall share secrets because I am sure that you still have a few stored away in that head of yours. After this, we shall read some from your new book as we sit next to the well built fire. Then, if we still have time, I must ask you a question."

Quite suddenly his voice lost all its humor to it and became very soft and thoughtful. Almost timid, as if he wasn't sure himself that he should continue on with what he was about to say.

"It is a very…. important question and I need to get it right in the asking."

Belle calmly turned her body around so that her feet were once more on the floor and she sat up strait with her hands on her lap.

"Those are all very lovely plans."

He smirked at her cordiality. "Thank you. I thought so."

"But," she began and he paused at the word, wondering what that 'but' would entail.

"But what?" he asked quickly, hoping this wasn't a 'but' to end the evening.

"But, I was wondering, it is still my birthday according to your logic. Correct?"

Christian nodded carefully, the good humor not yet gone from his chiseled features.

"Yes."

"Well then, do you think it would be alright if I chose the order from your list of things we are to do in celebration tonight?"

Christian felt a flare of doubt as he comprehended what she was saying. "I suppose." He answered mildly, thinking fast over how best to handle the abrupt change that was about to take place.

"Well then," she said calmly as she gathered up her skirt and rose to her feet. "If it would be alright with you, I would like to hear your question first."

She slowly took several steps in his direction. The movement made his blood race so quickly he felt dizzy. "Ah." He said with acknowledgment to her request.

He quirked one side of his mouth up into a ghost of a half-grin and looked deeply into her eyes. For just a moment he seemed so sad and lonely. The feeling was staggering to Belle and she wondered if there was some way to take away that sadness in his eyes. Someone who was so very beautiful to her, should not feel so very sad and alone.

With one step he was close enough to touch her. He gently took her small hand in his and held it for a moment, rubbing his thumb in a circle around her knuckles. Then with a sigh he looked again at her brown eyes that held so much trust in him. Trust he had broken and then, somehow, found the courage to ask for once more.

"Stay with me tonight?" He asked so quietly she almost didn't hear it. Her eyes held just enough surprise to give him pause before he plunged on like a mad man running towards danger, instead of running away.

"All night….every night…for the rest of my life."

It was said so simply, with so much sincerity that Belle found she could not answer at first. It had dawned on her once or twice throughout the evening that he could possibly have something like this in mind. But she had banished the thought quickly so as not to get her hopes up. And, yet, now it was amazing to see him so vulnerable and tender. It reminded her deeply of the first few days she had known him as a man. So unsure of himself with a sincerity that could not be duplicated. The honesty of it all stole her breath away.

Christian waited as she looked at him. Several emotions flitted across her face in quick succession. Surprise and confusion and several other things he could not identify which began to make him nervous. He had wanted to ask her this for so long that he wondered if perhaps he had missed his chance. Perhaps they were past the point to which she could really and truly trust him as she had before. There was a gnawing feeling growing in his stomach as the moments ticked by while she still said nothing. For the first time he wondered if she would refuse him his request. The thought was hideous and he tried to think on what he would do if that was the case. What would he say? How would they ever sit at a table together again knowing that he still wanted her, but she did not want him?

Just as suddenly as those feelings came they immediately disappeared as a small smile crept across her lips and made their way to her eyes. Without a word she nodded her head and gripped his hand.

"I will call my lady." She said softly, preparing to turn herself towards the door so she could have one of the servants retrieve her dressing maid. Belle was still clad in her finery and would need assistance in unraveling from it all.

Christian quickly gripped her hand harder than he had intended and shook his head so fast it reminded her of a dog shaking out his fur. "No," he said firmly enough to make her turn around and gaze at him. "No, let her sleep. I'll help you."

Belle was fairly certain that Christian did not even know what a corset was, let alone how to remove one but it was so unlike him to offer that she allowed him to lead her away from the door.

The air in the room had changed. Thicker and headier, she breathed in deeply and smiled as he placed a hand on her cheek. The touch was soft and tender and she saw as his eyes searched her face uncertainly. It was as if he had never been with her before and was desperate to grasp the reality of their present circumstance. With all suddenness he pressed his body against hers, wrapped his arms tightly around her middle and then buried his face in her neck. His breathing erratic, he held her so tightly he was afraid he would break her. With eyes squeezed shut and heart hammering in his chest they stood there for several moments.

"Oh, Christian…" she murmured and ran her fingers through his hair knowing exactly how he felt.

Gently he kissed her neck where his face was resting. His lips were hot and the touch lingered long after he had moved them from that spot. Using his right hand he softly smoothed the long tendrils of chocolate hair away from her face and neck and kissed her warm skin again. He paused for a moment and his eyes darted up to her eyes, checking himself to make sure that what he was doing was alright with her. He may have been dying of passion for her all these years, but he had little idea of how she was feeling. To his relief, her eyes were closed and a smile played across her lips. She bent her neck a little further so that his access to her beautiful skin would be readily available to him. With a soft moan escaping his throat, he made a trail of kisses from her collarbone all the way up to the crown of her head. Standing up strait he pressed her to him and she rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat pound inside him.

For a moment, looking down at her, he studied her face. She seemed to only have gotten lovelier as she had grown older. Her perfectly formed brown eyes looked up at him with so much tender trust and love that it was enough to make a grown man break down and cry. If he hadn't been so preoccupied with the task at hand, he would have seriously considered it.

He let his fingers travel down her bare arm all the way to her wrists and seemed to be considering her very seriously. Then with as much care as he could manage he reached behind her neck and worked to unclasp the jewels that were resting at her throat. Once done, he set the necklace on the table nearest and when he turned back towards her she held out her hand and offered the diamond earrings that had matched the necklace.

For him this was an indication that she was alright with what he was asking of her. Pressing his lips together he reached his hand out and ran the tips of his fingers down from her left temple to the line of her bottom lip and breathed in how incredible it was to have her here with him again after the long horrible years he had spent without her. Her touch, her smell, the way she filled his heart and calmed the animal inside him so that he could just breathe for a moment. She made him whole again and he wanted every bit of her to be close to him. He believed that if he could just get her close enough, then perhaps he could find some sense to the madness that was his existence. He yearned for that calm, that peace, as he yearned for her touch and the feel of her skin underneath his. He was sure that every single portion of his body had, at some point, ached with the need to touch his Belle.

His hand never breaking contact he rotated himself around so that he was facing her back. She reached around and lifted her hair deftly into one hand and rested it around over her left shoulder. This left her back exposed to him and with the hands of a master he pulled the strings on the lacing of her dress. He took extra care to pull the ribbons through their respective holes gently so as not to tear or damage anything. This dress had cost a small fortune and he wouldn't have ruined it for the world.

Many ribbons and very tiny buttons later, the fabric was loose enough that Belle could pull the sleeves down and lift her arms up into the air. Christian actually had the decency to blush as she asked him to pull the dress up over her hoop skirt that was swathed so tightly around her waist. It took some doing but she was finally untangled from the yards and yards of shimmery pink fabric. He picked it up and shook it out; all the while walking it over to carefully hang the dress up with the rest of the clothing the servants had secretly put in the room during the ball that evening. When the dress was hung and safely tucked away he turned himself around to see that Belle had untied her hoop skirt and had stepped out of it. He caught her with her back turned to him as she was setting the skirt on the sofa so that it wouldn't get stepped on in the morning. She obviously felt his eyes on her because she turned around quickly and seemed to curl shyly inside herself. She was still covered almost head to toe in undergarments which left very little skin to look at but it still made her anxious to have Christian see her so undressed after such a long time of not hardly seeing her at all.

Christian, on the other hand, was enraptured. He put one foot in front of the other and cautiously made his way over to her. She was so tightly woven into her undergarments it was almost comical. Christian wouldn't have been able to tell what the difference was between her bloomers, corset, or camisole let alone how to untie or hook one. But whatever they had dressed her in underneath her clothing, he silently thanked God for.

Belle's figure had always been rather slim before the twins were born. Even after Sophia she had maintained a rather slight frame. But in the six years that Christian had fervently avoided any close contact with his wife she had filled out, and though still very thin and lovely, her shape was clearly an identifiable hourglass. Her hips had moved out due to the birth of his two rather large strapping boys and made the curve of her body more feminine then anyone would have been able to guess underneath all the layers she wore everyday.

This was too much for Christian and he silently got on his knees in front of her. With such desire he ran his hand from the top of her natural waist all the way down her hips, letting his fingers fan out along the bone. Without all the mountains of fabric from her dress he could smell her skin much deeper than before. It was making his blood hot with need which was frightening for him. Having spent so long berating and hounding himself for such sensual feelings, to have them flood his system like a tidal wave was overwhelming.

"God help me." He whispered and then leaned over and placed a soft kiss on the silky fabric that rested snuggly over each hip bone. Bones that had bended and moved to bring his sons into this world. Her body had done so much for his sake and he made a promise to himself that he would spend the rest of his life repaying her for it.

He was jolted out of his thoughts as her hands wound their way around his neck and she tenderly touched his face, neck, hairline, and lips. They regarded each other from this new vantage point. The way his face looked upturned towards hers was a beautiful thing and Belle enjoyed looking down into his blue eyes, wondering if she could really fall into them and get lost forever.

He gingerly got to his feet after the moment had passed and was once again the one looking down at her upturned face. A quick sweep of her body made him realize that she was literally tied in so tightly with all her undergarments that she was going to be a veritable fortress that would require a small army to break into. As it was he knew he was going to have to work on it for at least an hour. But to Christian this just didn't seem like such a bad thing. He had time, for the moment, and he was glad for it.

Taking both her hands he started walking backwards towards his large, perfectly made bed. She walked along with him, a humorous quirk on her face. She was so happy to see him happy, so happy to see him playful and spontaneous. In her current state of optimism she would have walked on water if he had asked her to and would have found it a delight.

He stopped when the back of his knees came in contact with the frame of his bed. He gripped her hands tightly and then let them loose as he continued to drink her in. She watched him as he looked around himself, checking his surroundings as if he had just been introduced to this room as opposed to having spent every day here for years and years. With a small contended sigh she slowly reached over and unbuttoned the first button on his vest. Then the next and the next after that until he was free of the pink constricting material. He watched her with rapt attention and when she had completed her task and then he shrugged the garment off his shoulders. Exerting a lot less care then he had taken with her dress; he crumpled up the vest and tossed it across the room for the servants to care for later.

For a moment nothing happened. Christian was painfully aware of how long it had been since he had found himself in this particular situation with Belle. His stomach turned as he tried to think about what it was he was supposed to do next and he wondered if he had forgotten how. He was horribly unpracticed and his common sense was screaming at him to retreat while his body and his mind were beating him senseless to move faster. He felt a twinge of embarrassment as his fingers shook a little, wrapped around her palms. With sweet understanding she brought one of his hands up to her cheek and he felt her heart hammering in her neck at the same tempo as his own. But she just nodded her head and kissed every one of his fingertips softly. The moment of panic passed and he wondered why he had worried at all.

"Thank you…" He murmured knowing that just this small time with her was more than he ever should have asked for.

She simply smiled and closed her eyes, waiting for him to start their lives again. Seeing the moment coming he seized it with determination on his face. He reached for her with fervency and lifted her off her feet, crushing her to his chest. Then, without his normal hesitation he pressed his lips to her closed mouth and held his breath as he kissed her more powerfully then he ever had. She gripped him tightly, allowing him to break all the rules of propriety as he pressed her closer and closer to him, holding her hard enough around the waist to take her breath away. He parted her lips with his tongue and kissed her with intensity, pressing and pushing, demanding her full attention. His hand ran along her waist and up her back. She tangled her fingers up into his hair and pulled lightly as he explored her mouth and face with his lips, trying to take her in as fast and as passionately as he could. Her head was dizzy and spinning with the explosive pressure of his kissing as he pressed further and further into her mouth. She couldn't think, breath, or move except to keep his mouth moving wildly against his. Without thinking she bit down aggressively on his bottom lip. This sent him spinning into a place in his head that wasn't entirely human. He tilted his face up with a deep animal growl that started at the base of his throat and escaped his lips without warning. His eyes fluttered at the intense feelings and he would have returned to her with a wild abandon that he might have regretted later had it not been for a sudden eruption of laughter that burst from her tender lips. Caught off guard he opened his eyes and looked down at her as she pressed her face into his shoulder and laughed softly her whole body shaking.

"I'm sorry; I'm not laughing at you." She said into his shirt. It was the way her flushed cheeks lit up brighter with her laughter, her eyes glittering at the sudden break in their passion that made him laugh as well.

"It's alright…" He said breathlessly, his heart still trying to free itself from his chest. "You seem to have that affect on me."

"I'm glad" she said through giggles as she ran her thumb along the indentations left by her teeth on his bottom lip. He smiled genuinely pleased and wondered what other strange noises he was going to let slip this night without any warning. He pressed his forehead into hers and shook his head bemusedly.

"Oh Belle…" He murmured with such loving tenderness in his voice. The vestige of the passion he had just displayed lying under the surface, waiting to be unleashed again.

"Stay with me?" he said, finally looking into her eyes. It was more of a reassurance that she wasn't going to change her mind then a question.

Without hesitation she smiled widely and nodded her head with enthusiasm. He smiled back and lifted her off her feet and turned her around to lay her on the side of the bed he never touched because it was the side that belonged only to her. The side he never should have let her leave.

She relaxed against the pillows and nuzzled her head down into the fabric, glad that they would be there for her later to sleep against.

He took a step back and then allowed his eyes to travel up and down her body without feeling embarrassed or ashamed of himself.

Turning around, he looked about the room before heading in the direction of the window.

"What are you doing?" She asked puzzled.

He shut the drapes and clasped them so that no light from the moon could peek in between the cracks. He then went from candle to candle snuffing them out with his thumb and index finger. He banked the fire so that it glowed warm but not nearly as brightly. He had a feeling he would be warm enough on this night.

"Tonight, my dear," He said with the deepest of love in his voice and the richest of smiles on his face. "I share you with no one. Not even the light from the moon or the stars or anything else. Tonight…. You are all mine."

He couldn't see as well as he once had but his keen senses could tell that this pleased her. Without another word he made his way over to his side of the bed, pulling off his cravat and white evening slippers before he crawled in next to her and reached for the drapes around the wooden posts. He closed them securely inside his bed where they would find a haven for the rest of the night.


	44. Awake

_**Authors Note:** "Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos." – Snoopy_

_Once upon a time, a few years ago I was working as a ranch hand at a resort near a National Park in a southwestern state that we like to call Zion. I convinced the desk lady to give me the password to the guest computers that were downstairs of my bunk house. And every night that summer I would open up a blank email and write down a few pages of the first three chapters of this monster of a fan fiction. At the time I was sure it would be finished by the end of the summer. Best laid plans of mice and men, right? This has been a lllllloooooooooooonnnnnggg journey. I don't know if anyone has followed this the whole time but for those that are still reading this, I give you my up most respect. You are true friends._

_I think the best thing that has come of this was the fact that now I know that I can actually finish something this gigantic. It may not be the best but it's still something and I'm proud of it._

_I love Beauty and the Beast very much, and even though I will probably move onto other things I'm glad I wrote this. I'm glad that I had something to keep me close to my most favorite story. It doesn't mean this is how I envision the movie or the original story or anything, but it can now be added to my collection of Beauty and the Beast mementos. And I give you permission to do the same._

_I will probably not write another Beauty and the Beast fanfiction here. Never say never, I may change my mind. I actually want to start writing real novels that I can actually have published and see on a Wal-Mart shelve next to all the other cheap teen romance junk. But I want you to know that this was my first full-length writing experience and I am proud of myself._

_As always I ask you to forgive my mistakes, for I have made many. If I could go back I would change a few things. Perhaps make it shorter. I wouldn't set it in France because I have no desire to be historically accurate. I would have just made up some silly country like the one in the Princess Diaries and then perhaps everyone would have bought that._

_HOWEVER, I still would have named him Christian. I hate Adam. I think it's a stupid name and it isn't any more legitimate then the one I chose. There is NO proof that Adam was his official name. Some doofus made that up and everyone believed it. When Linda Woolverton, makes the official announcement, THEN I will believe it. Until then everyone needs to stop trying to convince me otherwise (end rant.)_

_Those things aside I will miss this. It's been a hobby for me to turn to for so long I am going to have to fill it up with a lot of other things for a while._

_Thank you very much for your reviews and your encouragement. It has been a pleasure._

_I hope you will all give long reviews for this and end it with a smile. I know I did. And besides it's your last chance to tell me how you really feel._

_Enchantingly Yours,_

_Ladyofthelake_

_Inspiration from this came from Awake by Secondhand Serenade but I want to give a special shout out for the song The Beauty and the Tragedy by Trading Yesterday. Sunshine Girl recommended it to me and I think it's just beautiful. Check them both out._

**With every appearance by you, blinding my eyes,**  
**I can hardly remember the last time I felt like I do.**  
**You're an angel disguised.**

**And you're lying real still,**  
**but your heart beat is fast just like mine.**  
**And the movie's long over,**  
**that's three that have passed, one mores fine.**

**I'm trying real hard not to shake. I'm biting my tongue,**  
**but I'm feeling alive and with every breathe that I take,**  
**I feel like I've won. You're my key to survival.**

**And if it's a hero you want,**  
**I can save you. Just stay here.**  
**Your whispers are priceless.**  
**Your breathe, it is dear. So please stay near.**

**Say my name. I just want to hear you.**  
**Say my name. So I know it's true.**  
**You're changing me. You're changing me.**  
**You showed me how to live.**  
**So just say. So just say,**

**That you'll stay awake for me.**  
**I don't wanna miss anything.**  
**I don't wanna miss anything.**  
**I will share the air I breathe,**  
**I'll give you my heart on a string,**  
**I just don't wanna miss anything**

**Chapter Forty-Four: Awake**

It was morning. He noted it with an exasperated grunt. Christian was just inside that place in sleep where he couldn't tell you where he was or who he was exactly. He was lost in a blissful white haze that was slowly coming to an end and he desperately didn't want to go back to whatever it was he was supposed to go back to.

The sun was shining in through the windows and was running her warm tendrils across his bare skin, teasing him and bringing him back to a place of consciousness. This caused a coherent thought to pierce the hazy wall that separated him from reality. 'I closed the currents on those windows. Why are they open again?'

This led to another muzzy thought and then another until finally his brain was slowly finding its way back to reality.

Unfortunately Christian found out quickly that waking up was going to be painful. His head took the opportunity to tell him how hung-over he was. From the state of the pounding in his skull he would have guessed quite a bit.

Even though he still couldn't think very clearly, his subconscious thoughts were attached to the feelings he would have felt if he could just bring his head to order. He knew that somewhere in there he was deeply happy. He was in his bed, he was aware of that by this point. It was rather frigid outside and someone had opened his window, he knew that too.

He was also beginning to see images in his brain from what he was sure were his goings on's from the previous night. As far as his tired brain could comprehend it was a night far too good to be true.

With a sigh he reached his hand over towards her. If his jumbled memory was telling him the truth then he could wake up to her beautiful smell before she got dressed for the day.

The bed on the left side was empty.

Christian's heart froze in his chest. He reached further, stretching his stiff muscles as far as his arm would allow. Not only was the bed empty, it was cold. With effort he cracked an eye open. It was agony as the light hit his retina and he had to squeeze it shut again before he could actually see. The bed was made perfectly on the left side. No one had slept there. It was undisturbed.

Christian felt a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with his hang-over.

She wasn't here. He was putting it together slowly. The headache was caused from too much drinking. He couldn't even remember drinking all that much at the celebration but he must have because he had clearly hallucinated an entire evening with Belle that hadn't happened.

For a moment he didn't move. Then, unable to stand the sight of the empty bed he closed his eyes shut and willed them to never open again.

"Oh God" he moaned softly and there was a timbre to his voice that he would have hidden if he had thought someone would hear. Without thinking he curled in on himself and buried his hands inside his horribly tangled hair. The sheets and blankets were twisted every which way and he couldn't seem to get enough of them to cover his naked back so that he could smother himself.

'How could you have been so stupid?" he berated himself. 'How could you have imagined a whole night with her!'

Without thinking he let out a startling cry and tugged hard on his hair, hoping most of it would come out. 'What are you going to do now, you stupid fool! You stupid, drunken son of a-'

But he never got to finish that thought. There was a hurried swishing sound of bare feet rushing through the carpet and then cold fingers running along his shoulder blade. It had the same effect of someone dumping ice water on his bare skin. Exhausted and wine-addled he had not even smelled or sensed another person in the room with him. Instantly the animal in him kicked in and let out a startled yelp that sounded much like a dog being kicked. Suddenly hands and feet were flying everywhere. He heard her voice as she scuttled away with a frightened shriek, clearing the space where he was tossing sheets and kicking wildly to untangle himself from the strangling bed. With his heart up in his throat he came to a stop on top of his pillows with his back pressed against the headboard. One blanket was covering his left leg and part of his torso but the rest of him was completely naked.

And there she was, standing a good ten paces away from the bed. She had one hand wrapped around her stomach, the other on her heart, a look of fear on her face. Her hair lay loose and tangled down her back and over her shoulders and her lips were pink and swollen from the previous night. Despite his shock, Christian noticed right away that she wasn't wearing her traditional dressing gown. She was wearing one of his white shirts. It was a clean one, from what he could smell and it was so large on her that another whole person her size could have fit into it with her. The hem came almost to her knees and the sleeves covered her hands entirely.

With wide eyes she looked at him as they both breathed rapidly. Sucking in a deep breath she cocked her head to the side expectantly.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice shrill.

He still hadn't quite grasped the situation. His head was pounding and there were glimmering stars in front of his eyes that made her look like she was glowing. His chest rose and fell and he tried to swallow but didn't quite manage it.

"What are you doing here?" was all he was able to gasp out.

She looked around the room, confused and then back at his equally confused face.

"You….you asked me to stay." With caution she took a step in his direction. He had that wild animal look on his face, as if he wasn't entirely in control of his instincts. The ones that told him to either run away or start fighting with claws and teeth.

He shook his shaggy head, still trying to clear it from the haze and then looked at her with genuine confusion. Turning his head he gazed down at the other side of the bed to see that it was still made up perfectly as he had felt it. For all to see it looked as if no one had slept there at all.

"I know…" he murmured glancing back at her as if he couldn't quite believe she was actually standing there "…but…you're still here…"

She inched closer to him so that she was in reaching distance. He seemed more or less in control of himself, if a bit dazed still. She put a hand up in a soothing manner and it would have done just that were it not for the look of worry playing on her features.

"Would you….Do you want me to leave?" She asked her voice small and strained.

Christian immediately snapped out of his daze at her words. With a started, "No!" he reached out his arms at a speed quicker then she could follow and wrapped them violently around her waist. Then jerked her hard onto his lap and held her tightly there, pressed against his bare chest. The movement had caused his shirt she was wearing to get caught around his arm and fold upwards so that her body was exposed from right underneath her armpits on down. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in copious amounts of her thick unwashed scent. It was perfect and he sniffed several times to try and breath it all in before it went away.

"No," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut as his headache continued to pound in his brain. "You're staying here with me forever."

She tried to adjust herself to a more modest position. This was hard as he had a grip on her that would have shamed a python.

"We have to get up at some point, you know. It's almost noon..."

"Shhhhh" he whispered into her hair, trying not to think about dates or times or anything really.

"We have guests that are awaiting our attention." She continued as if she hadn't heard him. By this point she was in a more comfortable position, lounging on his lap. Though her make-shift nightshirt was still not covering places she would rather have covered.

"Shh Belle." Christian said more firmly. "Don't ruin this."

She let out a breath of exasperation as she tried to untangle his arm from the hem of her shirt.

"Not to mention we have a wedding in three months." She finished just as he pulled the sheets around the two of them like a cocoon.

"Shh Belle!" He repeated, finally opening his eyes. "Stop ruining this!"

She let out a laugh and allowed him to hold her tightly. Neither spoke as she ran her fingertips along his exposed thigh.

"You didn't think I was going to be here in the morning." She said after a few moments.

It was meant to sound musing but it just came out sounding the way she felt, hurt.

He sighed deeply and tried to keep the pain out of his own voice. "You don't understand. I have awoken a thousand mornings only to find that I have misplaced you. I have missed you so much that sometimes I really believed you would be right there next to me.

But you were not…"

Deep frown lines etched themselves into Belle's face. "I would have if you would have let me."

Christian only held her tighter. "I know."

And with that, the cloud drifted off her face. No more argument, no self-depreciation, just an acknowledgment. That was all that she needed.

"Why weren't you in bed with me when I woke up?" Christian finally asked in a reproachful voice. "You nearly made my heart stop beating."

Belle twisted around to look at him in the face. "I have always awoken before you do. I was just sitting over there by the window."

She pointed in the direction of the window seat where the source of the cold draft was coming from. She had opened it up just a crack and sunlight was streaming in through the clear glass.

He instantly felt stupid and gave a dejected "Oh" before becoming silent again. He found that if he didn't talk, his head hurt less.

To his surprise she let out a soft chuckle and reached her hand up to stroke his hair.

"How is your head?" She murmured as her fingers trailed down his chest.

"It feels like I'm being beaten with a hammer."

She laughed and looked over at the window. "Would you like some tea?"

He followed her gaze to several breakfast trays that had been set on his desk, filled with an assortment of foods and drinks that both Christian and Belle were particularly fond of.

"Did you go to the kitchens to get those?" he asked cautiously, mentally picturing her walking down there in his over-sized undershirt and bare feet. He didn't like the idea of the servants ogling at her naked legs and rumpled hair. Those were his and only his to ogle at.

She snorted derisively. "Hardly. The servants knocked on the door early this morning and when I went to open it they were peaking around the corner of the corridor thinking I wouldn't see them. I am surprised you didn't hear them, they were making quite a ruckus."

Christian watched as she untangled herself from his lap and straitened out the shirt so that it covered her female parts and then walked over to the trays of food. He made particular note of the way her calves flexed when she walked and how the shirt hem ended so maddeningly over her thighs. The whole thing made him want to pull the shirt off as he was staring, though how he could think of things like that with his head pounding the way it was is anyone's guess.

"I guess I had a little too much to drink last night. But even so, I wish the servants weren't so nosy. What? Do they stay up all night together recording our whereabouts? How did the cooks know you were even in here?"

Belle poured Christian some lemon and ginger tea, plopping in a spoonful of honey and turned to look at him with a knowing smile.

"Well, you did make a rather roughish display last night. What, with the sweeping me away in your arms right in front of my ladies."

"I was trying to be romantic." He replied grumpily, accepting the teacup she offered him.

"And you did a marvelous job." She answered condescendingly as she settled herself in the space between his legs and up against his chest. "You know, they already fancy you enough without you making yourself more appealing when you do things like that."

"They can hang it. They don't even know what romantic is."

Belle looked away towards the window and curled a lock of her hair around her index finger. "No they don't." she murmured, trying not to think too hard about the happenings of only a few hours prior.

Changing the subject she felt Christian take several sips of his tea.

"Though, I must say, I think we need to moderate your drinking, dear. This can hardly be good for you."

Christian looked around the room to see the two empty wine bottles lying on the floor next to their discarded clothing he had tossed around the room in his struggle to remove them from their bodies. The third bottle was opened but barely touched and setting on the nightstand. He nodded his head and then rested his chin on her mess of hair.

"You're probably right." Then with a sad little sigh he set his empty teacup on the nightstand and lifted the full wine bottle. Humming a sad funeral dirge, he turned the bottle upside down over the chamber pot.

"Good-bye old friend, I am not sad to say I will no longer need you." The bottle made a funny chugging noise as it emptied out. Then Christian tossed it onto the floor with the others and enjoyed the way Belle's body moved against his as she silently laughed.

"That was a little dramatic, don't you think?" she finally said.

He just shrugged his shoulder and looked down at her. "I don't know if I can do anything without it ending up being overly dramatic."

She smiled at this and reached for his hand and twined her fingers into his. "I don't think I mind all that much, most of the time."

A moment or two passed as they sat together on the bed. Slowly Christian's headache began to dissipate and he relaxed his neck and shoulders against the mountain of pillows underneath and behind him.

"I am sorry we weren't able to get to all the other things on your list last night. They all sounded wonderful."

Christian laughed softly and rubbed the rough stubble on his face.

"I don't mind. We were rather preoccupied with other things last night."

Belle nodded in agreement. "Perhaps we can make up for them today. For example, I am sure the remaining guests would not mind a small dance after dinner this evening. That is, if you would like to come."

Christian smiled and looked down at her. "Are you asking me to join you for dinner tonight?"

She looked up at him and smiled back. "I suppose I am. Will I have to break down the door to get you to come?"

He wrapped his arms around her middle gently. "Doubtful, but then you never know in this castle."

She licked her dry lips, "I think I will need a bath first."

Immediately Christian shook his head. "No bath."

She glanced up at him. "Why?"

"I like the way you smell now." He breathed in her hair and smiled serenely to himself.

"You smell like sunshine and summer and when you take your baths your ladies rub those disgusting oils on your skin and then I can't smell the real you anymore."

Belle laughed out loud and shook her head. "You are your nose."

"Hmmm, better to smell you with, my dear." He answered playfully.

Pressing herself more firmly into him she sighed.

"Christian?"

"Hmm?" he answered contentedly.

"I do have a secret I need to tell you."

"What?" he replied, confused.

"You said last night that we would share secrets. Well, I do have one I have been meaning to tell you."

The timid tone in her voice instantly made Christian sit up and pay careful attention to her. His mind became alert and he immediately began to tell himself that whatever it was she was going to say, it wouldn't change anything between them.

"Is it good or bad?" he finally asked.

"I… don't know."

"What is it?"

"Do you promise not to get angry?"

"Belle, what is it?"

She took a deep breath and looked away from him.

"Do you remember the night we met?"

He blinked several times and tried to think on what she could be talking about.

"Yes, how could I forget it?"

She ignored his question. "Do you remember asking me to dinner?"

Again he paused, wondering where she was going with this. "Yes… You locked yourself in your room and said you…." He paused. They rarely talked about their first encounters as it always brought painful feelings.

"You said you didn't want to…get to know me. You didn't want to have anything to do with…me."

Belle felt instantly guilty for bringing this up after they had been so happy sitting together in his room. But she plunged on anyways.

"Yes, you do remember, obviously. That was only partly true."

"What do you mean?"

"I was angry with you for locking my father up and keeping me here but… I also…. I also didn't want to come down to dinner because…..because I thought you were going to eat me."

There was dead silence between the two for almost a full minute. Then, quite suddenly, Christian moved around her quickly so that he was in a position right in front of her, the sheets wrapped around his middle and legs. He looked at her incredulously.

"You thought I was going to eat you?"

She nodded her head sheepishly and looked down at her hands.

"What was I supposed to think? You were a beast asking me to dinner!"

Christian shook his head in disbelief and looked at her as if he couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, but, if I had wanted to eat you, don't you think I would have started with your father first?"

She gave him a look. "You ate other things. You told me so yourself."

"Animals! Not people! What kind of a monster did you take me for?" This was a ridiculous question and he knew it before it even left his lips.

She cocked her head to the side. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"

He paused for a second and then shook his head again. "No, not really."

"You cannot tell me you didn't think I would taste delicious?" She suddenly had a sly smile on her face. "You did say I smelled like summer, perhaps I taste like it too."

He looked up at the ceiling as if he was preying for strength. "I cannot believe you would think that I was some type of cannibal."

"Now, I asked you to promise not to get angry, remember? Besides, I didn't know you were human then."

He looked back down at her. "You think this is funny, don't you?"

She put on a face of complete seriousness. "Absolutely not. I have been harboring this for years. It didn't even cross your mind once?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eyes. "No, but now that you mention it, you do smell rather mouthwatering."

And then, without any type of warning, Christian moved his body with such speed that Belle hardly realized what he was doing until he had pouncing on her. She lay flat on her back in the same spot he had been sleeping in. One leg was on either side of her hips, both palms flat down on either side of her head.

"Now, let's see." He murmured before leaning down and gently biting down on her upper right arm. He continued to bite her softly down her arm, on her stomach and back up to her neck. When he reached her throat he paused for a second and with a wicked smile on his face he licked her all the way from her jaw to her hair line leaving a trail of spit in his wake.

She let out a disgusted shriek and attempted to push him off of her. He laughed out loud and flopped over onto his side, propping himself up onto his elbow.

"Mmmm, positively delicious."

She used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off the spit from her face and gave him another disgruntled look.

They sat like that until his laughter subsided. She returned his smile after a few moments and watched him as what looked like years of age left his face, reminding her of the day she first met him as a human and how beautiful he was then.

"There you go. That was the only secret I kept from you. Now you know everything there is to know about me."

"Is that so?" he asked with a grin.

She nodded her head and was beginning to see the positive side of staying in bed with him all day. Apparently he was starting to rub off on her.

Gradually his face started to become serious as he looked at her. He reached out a hand to cup her cheek and some emotion akin to pain floated across his face.

"I can't do this without you anymore."

She reached out a hand to hold his cheek in return.

"Then don't."

"I don't think I could go back to my life the way it has been. Not after last night."

"I don't think I could either." She replied in kind.

He paused for a moment and then continued. "I am going to take you away for a little while. Take you to see those places you used to dream about before I trapped you in this castle again."

"I wasn't trapped in this castle, Christian. We started a family."

"I know that. But I should have taken you with me. There are so many places I want you to see. We'll leave after Sophia's wedding. Just you and the twins and me. A few servants, nothing too fancy. Our lives start now and I never want you to have another wasted day. Is that alright?"

Tears filled up in Belle's eyes and she let them fall down her face. She nodded her head and her heart lifted up at the thought of traveling with him, seeing places and sharing them with her family.

"Thank you."

He nodded and without even thinking about it, kissed her softly on her mouth. It started off so slow and agonizing. He leaned over further so that their bodies were pressed into each other. Her hands wrapped around his middle as he leaned over further onto her and tangled his fingers into her hair. He kissed her harder, sucking on her bottom lip and running his tongue along her teeth and mouth. Her body was getting warmer and flushed and he broke from their kiss only to let his mouth travel down to her neck were he sucked on a spot close to her collar bone and then leaned over to nibble her ear. He ran his hands down from her hair, along her arms, and across her chest. She made soft little cooing noises that caused his blood to race and he knew that he needed to slow down before he became too aroused to stop. His body didn't want him to and frankly she wasn't making any complaints. At the same time, they had both stayed up well into the early light of dawn as he had made love to her over and over again. He could tell that she was tired underneath him and that she needed time to think and become re-accustomed to their coupling. He could wait. He would not push or press her. He would wait until she was ready to let him in again on her own time. He owed her at least that much.

With a sigh he let her go and lay back onto her side of the bed, his breathing erratic but slowly returning to normal. Her face still wet from crying she gratefully wrapped her arms around his stomach and curled her body into his side, tucking herself underneath his arm. She tangled her legs around his, which wasn't doing anything to calm his ardor but he wouldn't have asked her to move for the world.

Pressing a kiss into the top of her head he whispered. "You are my angel…"

She smiled up at him. "And you are mine…"

He ran a hand along her back knowing that he was going to do everything he could to give her her wings back.

There was a beautiful catharsis that settled in between them as they lay there together that morning. He still feared the future, still worried that something could happen to her, knowing that he could not live without her. But for that morning they were happy; as happy as they had ever been. And for that moment Christian thanked God for everything. He couldn't even count how many times he had been given second chances, third chances, or whatever chance he was currently being given. He only knew to thank his God for all of them, because it meant he would get another moment to spend it, lying next to his love, knowing that she truly loved him in return.

Looking down at her upturned face he smiled at her with more love then he ever could express.

"I love you, My Beauty."

"I love you, My Beast."


End file.
